@spe--vedit-ad--astra / spe--vedit-ad--astra.tumblr.com
i saw some comments on tiktok where people were talking bout how they found tumblr too hard to use and part of it being that there was no lack of dates so “what if you reblog or like something from five years ago?!”
buddy… we have posts circulating still from 2011, its literally just how it is
Being on tumblr for years like:
this post is 2 years old and it’s only going to get funnier as it gets older
IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST
OR ‘PEAKED’
BUT PIQUED
‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’
THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA
THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY USEFUL THANK YOU
ADDITIONALLY:
YOU ARE NOT ‘PHASED’. YOU ARE ‘FAZED.’
IF IT HAS BEEN A VERY LONG DAY, YOU ARE ‘WEARY’. IF SOMEONE IS ACTING IN A WAY THAT MAKES YOU SUSPICIOUS, YOU ARE ‘WARY’.
ALL IN ‘DUE’ TIME, NOT ‘DO’ TIME
‘PER SE’ NOT ‘PER SAY’
THANK YOU
BREATHE - THE VERB FORM IN PRESENT TENSE
BREATH - THE NOUN FORM
THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE
WANDER - TO WALK ABOUT AIMLESSLY
WONDER - TO THINK OF IN A DREAMLIKE AND/OR WISTFUL MANNER
THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGEABLE (but one’s mind can wander)
DEFIANT - RESISTANT DEFINITE - CERTAIN
WANTON - DELIBERATE AND UNPROVOKED ACTION (ALSO AN ARCHAIC TERM FOR A PROMISCUOUS WOMAN)
WONTON - IT’S A DUMPLING THAT’S ALL IT IS IT’S A FUCKING DUMPLING
BAWL- TO SOB/CRY
BALL- A FUCKING BALL
YOU CANNOT “BALL” YOUR EYES OUT
AND FOR FUCK’S SAKE, IT’S NOT “SIKE”; IT’S “PSYCH”. AS IN “I PSYCHED YOU OUT”; BECAUSE YOU MOMENTARILY MADE SOMEONE BELIEVE SOMETHING THAT WASN’T TRUE.
THANK YOU.
*slams reblog*
IT’S ‘MIGHT AS WELL’. ‘MIND AS WELL’ DOES NOT MAKE GRAMMATICAL SENSE.
SLEIGHT - DEXTERITY, ARTIFICE, CRAFT (FROM ‘SLY’) SLIGHT - VERY LITTLE, FRAIL, DELICATE
IT’S ‘SLEIGHT OF HAND’.
DISCRETE - SEPARATE, DISTINCT, PARTED
DISCREET - SUBTLE, STEALTHY, DIPLOMATIC
BORN= existing as a result of birth
BORNE= carried or transported by
LIGHTENING = to make something less dark in color or to lessen its weight
LIGHTNING = bright flash of light during electrical storms
{This is quite helpful. Thank you Rebloggers.}
((adm: I just want to add-
Loose- untight
Lose- opposite of winning))
((ALSO: A fun trick - Affect = Action Effect = End Result ))
There = In that place
Their = belonging to them
can’t = a contraction for cannot
cant = a tilt or lean at an angle, usually to accommodate accessibility
Me thinking that this is child’s play and that I know it all already:
Me realising there are some things I didn’t already know:
TO- GOING ONE PLACE TOWARDS ANOTHER
TWO- 2, A NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 3
TOO- A DESCRIPTIVE WORD, THE MUSIC IS TOO LOUD, THE SHIRT IS TOO LOOSE.
TOO- A DESCRIPTIVE
WORD, THE MUSIC IS TOO LOUD,
THE SHIRT IS TOO LOOSE.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
I’m gonna add
ROGUE: CRIMINAL/REBEL/VAGRANT/ETC
ROUGE: RED MAKEUP
it’s rogues gallery, guys. Not rouge gallery. You’re making me think batman has an extensive lipstick collection.
If you’re talking about a weapons CACHE, it’s pronounced cash.
If you say cashay, that’s how CACHET is pronounced which means prestige and does not mean a collection of items stored together in a hidden/inaccessible place.
NO ONE IS ‘PREJUDICE"
PEOPLE ARE “PREJUDICED”
If he’s not moving, he’s STATIONARY.
If he’s a fucking space pencil, then carry on with STATIONERY.
If it’s wet precipitation falling out of the sky, it’s RAIN
If it’s someone ruling over people, it’s REIGN
If it’s holding back someone from (or getting someone to stop doing) something, that’s to REIN [them] IN (…as if you were using REINS on a horse)
(and oh yeah)
If you’re telling someone they’re going to have to reconsider an opinion or course of action, then they have ANOTHER THINK COMING
(because “another thing coming” makes no damn sense whatsoever unless they’re in some kind of monster movie, ffs)
Just adding:
HOARD - (n.) a collection of stuff, (vb) to collect a collection of stuff.
HORDE - (n.) a collection, group, mob or host of people, often unruly or barbaric.
PEEL - (n.) the outside skin of fruit, also (archaic n.) a tower house, sometimes spelled PELE; (vb) to remove the outside skin of fruit; by extension, usually as PEEL OFF, to remove clothing, but also (aviation) to break away, one aircraft at a time, from a larger formation.
PEAL - (n.) the sound of several church bells ringing together or in sequence; (vb.) to ring bells in this manner.
BREACH - (n.) a break or opening, usually in a wall; (vb) to make such an opening, also a whale rising clear of the surface of the sea. (The words BREACH and BREAK are distant relatives.)
BREECH - (n.) the bottom end of a gun-barrel, where it’s loaded; also (BREECH PRESENTATION) a baby being born bottom-foremost; also (n. pl.) BREECHES, a historical style of trousers ending just below the knee and (archaic vb) to BREECH, to dress a boy in breeches (adult clothing) for the first time.
English is… Complicated.
And my favourite recent one,
It is “TO ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES” and not “TO ALL INTENSIVE PURPOSES”.
Per a request from @datundit:
“Oh would you please add
‘would/could/should HAVE’ not *of*
to the english grammar post.
That’s the most frequent offence I see committed by native speaker in the wild.
Thank you <3”
Here for the reign/rein one which is used incorrectly in this blog post on correct writing from the University of Illinois!
whenever i'm trying to talk myself out of buying something i don't need i always hear my old russian professor's voice echoing in my head: "WHAT??? WILL YOU DIE THE RICHEST MAN IN THE GRAVEYARD?" and then i make an unwise financial decision
i'm so glad i happened to see these tags this is the best thing anyone has added to this post so far
hey boss i can't come in today it's a sunny day and there's a lovely breeze coming in through my window, yeah it's rustling the branches of the tree outside that's finally bloomed so it's pretty serious
I’m very excited for my latest craft experiment, where I rhythmically slap sale rank oil paint onto a canvas and I see how long it takes to dry so that I can finally touch the paint textures I stare at so longingly in museums. 12 hours in, still wet. I am beginning to think this might take longer than I thought which you can imagine is quite a burden, as I am absolutely horned up to rub this paint.
You guys sound like you know what you’re talking about but I’m gonna touch it every twenty minutes just to be sure
I’ve put this canvas to age in the basement like a fine wine, along another recent masterpiece of mine “I put the paint on me hand and I slap the canvas like a bongo”
Paint slapped on 6/9, as of 6/22 (I mean actually it was a couple days ago but I didn’t fully check the dryness then so I can’t be sure):
It is rubbery feeling and the peaks of paint move when you flick them. The texture is not at ALL what I expected tbh and it makes me excited to try a different experiment, thick brush strokes, you know, those mad thicc ones that swirl real good
Here’s an additional shot with my coffee cup for a further sense of scale so people will understand that these canvases are small and therefore stop sending me asks about my supposedly gorilla sized hands, you bastards, you rotten bastards scared of the hands your minds gave me
I don’t know shit about art but isn’t this like a great example of art that pushes the boundaries of what art is? Like you’ve got your canvas with paint on it, but your reason for putting the paint there is totally different than why most people put paint on stuff. It’s like a study on texture or something.
Agreed, this is really cool and also I love the fact that you really wanted to touch some paint, so you just went out and bought a bunch of paint and made your own painting for touching purposes. That’s striking me as really really cool right now for reasons I can’t entirely articulate.
For reference: Really thick paint on a piece of art is called impasto. Another really fun way to do it is with a painting knife: you can make each stroke SUPER SMOOTH like cake icing, but with visible, touchable texture between the strokes.
More impasto:
art by Jan Ironside, who does THICK IMPASTO FLOWERS THAT I SO WANT TO TOUCH
You LITERALLY sat down to watch paint dry…
Museums should have stuff like this on display JUST so you can touch it. With a sign like, “Feel me up! I won’t alarm!”
make good art
Only thing about thick impasto is that the paint can get a bit sharp sometimes. Like, I’ve cut my hand on dried impasto paint because the paint stroke was that pointed. -.-;
Every reply on this post is delightful
sorry this is not relevant at all but ive seen this post many times and EVERY SINGLE TIME “ stop sending me asks about my supposedly gorilla sized hands, you bastards, you rotten bastards scared of the hands your minds gave me” makes me spiral ive never laughed so hard thank you
This entire thread is wonderful. What better reason to create art than pure human curiosity? 🥰
Two things. 1. Brennan was such a perfect pull for this I wonder how different it would have been with grant.
2. I have never in my life seen "Brennan Mulligan" and my brain cannot absorb it. That's not a real name. I know it's technically correct but also no
now that i am a real adult i am starting to realise. media lied to me about the availability of rooftops to go hang out on. every day i wish i could be hanging out on a rooftop somewhere looking cool as fuck
unfortunately i Do feel better when i clean my living space and eat enough fruits and veggies and go outside and generally remember i am a mammal :| real pity that knowing this does not make it easier to do those things
the first day of my hand drafting class in my senior year of college, after the prof taught us how to frame up on the drafting table and went over how to use the tools we'd bought, he had us all take our pencils and make a mark on the top right corner of the vellum. then he walked us through the setup steps - the border, the title block, etc.
and he told us to erase the mark.
when someone - rosie, i think - asked what the mark was for he smiled.
"if you give a novice student an expensive, blank piece of paper, they panic. they think if i start using that i will ruin it. so the first thing i want all of you to do, any time you stare at a blank piece of paper, is to ruin it a little and take the pressure off yourself. pencil erases. anxiety has to be managed."
i hated that man for a myriad of reasons, but that was some of the best advice i've ever been given.
Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.
Carpathia received Titanic’s distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.
(Californian’s exact position at the time is…controversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanic’s distress rockets. It’s uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)
Carpathia’s Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanic’s aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.
All of Carpathia’s lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.
I don’t know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.
Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awake–prepping a ship for disaster relief isn’t quiet–and all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.
And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.
Here’s the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining rooms–which, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when she’d done that, he asked her to go faster.
I need you to understand that you simply can’t push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only reckless–it’s difficult to maneuver–but it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They can’t do it. It can’t be done.
Carpathia’s absolute do-or-die, the-engines-can’t-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.
No one would have asked this of them. It wasn’t expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a respondibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.
They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.
This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanic’s last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.
In total, 705 people of Titanic’s original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.
At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.
I think the least we can do is remember them for it.
wow okay i’m crying now
“And even as he watched the rescue unfolding that morning, he would have understood that for the living, everything which could have been done had been done: not a single survivor was lost or injured being brought aboard the Carpathia. For those who had gone down with the Titanic, save for reverencing their memory at the service later that day, there was nothing more that he or anyone could do. Rostron’s duty now was as he always saw it: to the living.”
I looked up a bit about this because the post is so movingly written that when I read it aloud to my husband and mother they both wept like babies, and something else really struck me about this story.
So Carpathia was not a top-end luxury liner. Her reputation was for being Jolly Comfortable - she was very broad in her proportions, and not super-duper fast, and the result was that she didn’t rock so much on the waves and you couldn’t particularly hear/feel the engines. She was solid and dependable, and lots of people liked using her, but she therefore occupied a lesser niche than Titanic or Olympian or whatever - and crucially, as a result of that, she only had one radio operator on board. This means she only had radio ops for a certain window in the day, unlike Titanic, which had 24 hour radio ops.
So on that night, when Titanic went down, Carpathia’s wireless operator - one Harold Cottam - clocked off his shift at midnight, and went to bed. While he was getting ready for bed, though, he left the transmitter on for the hell of it, and therefore picked up a transmission from Cape Race in Newfoundland, the closest transmitting tower sending messages to the ships. They told him that they had a backlog of private traffic for Titanic that wasn’t getting through. So, even though his shift was over, and it was now 11 minutes past bloody midnight, and he just wanted to go to bed, Harold Cottam decided that nonetheless, he’d be helpful, and let the Titanic know they had messages waiting.
And that’s how he received the Titanic’s distress signal. In spite of no longer being on shift to receive it, and therefore in order to send Carpathia galloping to Titanic’s rescue, and thus saving 705 people.
All because Harold Cottam decided one night to be kind.
I dunno. That’s just really stuck with me.
Cottam also ended up staying awake for something like 48 hours straight trying to send survivors messages and a list of survivors home, but due to Carpathia’s limited radio frequency range and with no other ships to act as a relay, this was rather patchy. However, he tried his damn best to make sure the survivor’s messages got home, and was also bombarded with incoming messages of bribes to spill the details of the disaster to the press.
Rostrum had ordered that no messages to the press be sent out of respect to the survivors, for they would have their privacy destroyed as soon as they reached New York. Cottam respected this order, even under extreme duress of fatigue, stress, and the knowledge that in some cases the bribes were almost three times his annual salary.
He eventually went to bed but not before working with one of the rescued Titanic’s radio operators, Harold Bride, to transmit as many messages as possible. Bride was injured (his feet had been crushed in a lifeboat) and had just passed the body of the second of Titanic’s radio operators aboard (Jack Phillips), so neither of them were really in the best shape to keep working, but they did.
In the face of extreme adversity, both men refused to do anything but their duty (and exceeding their duty) not just because Rostrum had ordered it, but because it was the right thing to do. They could have profited considerably from the disaster and they refused for the dignity of the survivors.
This is hopepunk. This is what we can be, what we are, when instinct takes over. This is what we are when we choose to care about each other. We’re not profit machines or units of production or lone fierce wolves in a bitter wilderness. We are people, and we care about people.
This is human nature. Don’t give up on it.
Hopepunk is best punk.
this always leaves me sobbing. fuck.
I wrote a post a couple of years ago, wondering why there hadn’t been a documentary or docu-drama about the ‘Carpathia’ rescue run.
There are probably sound reasons why not, one of which is probably that getting yet another ‘Titanic’ project greenlit is far easier - name recognition, pre-sold property, multiple conspiracy theories to play with (all discredited, but when did that stop the “History” Channel?)
Here are a couple of stories about ‘Carpathia’:
As @mylordshesacactus has already said, her boilers and engines were rated for no more than 14 knots and, when she managed 17.5 for the only time in her life it’s said (I hate the phrase but I have to use it) that the Chief Engineer hung his hat over the main pressure gauge so no-one - including himself - could see how far its needle was into the red.
Captain Rostron, a religious man, was seen on several occasions standing privately on the exposed bridge wing with his own hat raised and his mouth moving in silent prayer, and when daylight revealed the extent of the ice-field his ship had passed without harm, he only said “There must have been another Hand on the wheel than mine…”
There’s another problem-of-sorts about a screenplay set aboard ‘Carpathia’ - an astonishing lack of that easy dramatic tool, conflict. Captain Rostron decided he was going to the ‘Titanic’s assistance, and that was that. AFAIK not a single passenger or crewman - not one - questioned the wisdom of his decision either then or afterwards, even when…
…‘Carpathia’ headed at more than full speed, in the dark, through dangerous waters where an iceberg had apparently just sunk an “unsinkable” ship.
It’s easier to write - and sell - a story about pride, arrogance, stupidity, rich against poor and lives lost through hubris, than it is to write one about people who rallied round and did the right thing at the right time, not for reward but because it was the right thing to do.
Here’s Rostron and his officers…
…the ‘Carpathia’ stewards and cabin crew….
…some of her passengers…
…and some of the people they helped.
I will always reblog one of the few posts to GUARANTEE leaving me in an ugly sobbing heartfelt mess.
Godspeed Carpathia and your crew, your memories live on.
“you should be at the club” i should be by the sea. i should be in the mountains. i should be awestruck and rendered speechless by the majesty of the natural world. if you even care
"nothing is real atoms never touch each other youve never touched anything in your life" ok. well when i pet my dog he is soft and when he licks my hand it is wet and that is far more real to me than whatevers going on at an atomic level
what my atoms are doing is their fucking business man i'm busy trying to stop my dog from eating tissues directly out of the box
nuclei don't touch, but the nucleus is not the core of reality. reality is made of electrons dancing. reality is made of bonds.
you pet your dog and the atoms that are you brush up against the atoms that are him, and the electrons that are you press into the electrons that are him, and both of them change their movement.
electrons of course are not really particles and do not really move.
you pet your dog and the electron-orbitals of your skin overlap with the electron-orbitals of his fur, and both are changed by the contact. you are not made of little motes floating alone in a void. you are a single unfathomable chord formed of a trillion vibrations, and so is he. and the note you play is changing at every moment by what you touch and how you breathe, and so is his. and atoms do not really have edges, and to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate. the song expands to hold you both.
Well, wow. Who knew one thing moving in front of the other could elicit in us such childlike wonder? Turns out, pretty much everyone, actually. The untimely darkness! The crescent dapples! That bright corona! You've all enjoyed them immensely. Here's an eclipse collection for the annals.
