It grew along the fenceline ouf our field. I would find new patches by the giant asparagus christmas trees that grew.
I had to Google it to confirm, but yep…
I have a random asparagus plant left over from my mom’s impulse gardening. It lives in the back of the border and I just let it do it’s thing. (It actually adds a lovely element of movement to it) The number of people who ask me what it is, and then categorically refuse to belive me when I tell them, is stunning. Especially when it fruits.
the two that come to mind: I bowled next to Chaka Kahn and Columbo (Peter Falk) told my sculpture class to shut up.
I met Bill Nye and marched with him at the March For Science in Washington D.C.
Also met Neil Degrasse Tyson at like some fancy conference party thing and I do not like him because he’s arrogant and pretentious and I want to shove him into a locker
Uhhhh I made out with that tall guy from Parquet Courts after getting a rose from him at a concert because I ended up front row where they were performing?
I’ve also met Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey from The Who because I’m friends with John Entwistle’s son,, it’s a long story
Fascinating cat content
Fic idea I was struck with the other day and keep thinking about: a Vulcan adopts a cat.
Still thinking about this, even though I’m not writing the fic!
This Vulcan, I’m calling her T’Pen, goes to a shelter and gets a cat, and the shelter employees are like, a bit weirded out? But obviously they’re going to give her a cat, I mean, she’s a Vulcan, she’s Super Responsible, she takes all the pamphlets and listens attentively to all the advice the shelter employees give her, even though it is obvious she researched a lot on her own.
Then T’Pen asks the shelter folks what she should name the cat and runs into That Thing Humans Do Where They Confound a Vulcan With Their Weird Ways
Shelter Employee 1: oh, you can name a cat anything! That’s what’s great! People names, common nouns, whole phrases.
Shelter Employee 2: yeah, nothing sounds weird on a cat. Everything from Chad to Cupboard is fair game.
SE 1: yeah, I mean, you can’t call a dog Chad, that would be weird
SE 2: I wouldn’t fuckin’ trust anyone who named their dog Chad
SE 1: oh word
Later, in the interest of furthering her anthropological study of Earth, T’Pen has a houseparty and she invites her coworkers, many of whom are human, but others which are aliens, and are fascinated by T’Pen’s cat
Vulcan Co-worker: T’Pen, what have you named this small Earth feline?
T’Pen: I have named him Marmalade.
Vucan co-worker: Is that not the name of a type of Terran fruit preserve? I do not understand the logic behind this choice.
T’Pen: the logic is self-evident to a human.
Human Co-worker: T’Pen, omg, you have a cat! What’s his name?
T’Pen: thank you for your inquiry. His name is Marmalade
Human Co-worker: oooh! yeah, that makes sense, because he’s orange and sweet! lmao, great name
Vulcan Co-worker: …
Vulcan Co-worker: ….fascinating
Human: So, how’s Marmalade?
T’Pen: He has the peculiar habit of walking on my workstation.
Human: Aggravating, isn’t it?
T’Pen: We Vulcans do not feel human emotions. However, I would prefer it if Marmalade stayed off my workstation, particularly when I am working.
Human: Get a box.
T’Pen: Murdering Marmalade seems an overreaction.
Human: No, you need a box with interior dimensions approximately the same as Marmalade’s body, and set it on the floor next to your workstation. Marmalade will sit in the box.
T’Pen: Why do you believe that this will work for Marmalade?
Human: We don’t know. It’s just something cats do. If he fits, he sits.
T’Pen: … Fascinating.
Vulcan Commander: T’Pen, you are posting videos of your cat. Explain.
T’pen: My colleagues are amused and entertained by Marmalade’s interactions with his environment. I am amused and entertained by their reactions as reflected in the comments.
Vulcan Commander (reading): “U haz done me a startle”?
T’Pen: Some of them like to verbalize what they believe are Marmalade’s thought processes. He is a cat, so they imagine that he does not grasp human spelling and grammar.
Vulcan Commander: … Fascinating. As you were. (signs off)
T’Pen (returning to her meal): Now I can haz lunch.
I need more people to write more bits of this.
The Vulcans going “…Fascinating” is hilarious for some reason.
It’s hilarious because it’s the closest they can get to saying “what the fuck”.
My friend has two pet foxes... I love the videos of them messing with the old lab dog -- they do the thing where they just jump straight up and drop on the lab.
In college, a few of us went to an aquarium shop with a friend and we all decided to get him a fish... I picked out a cute little puffer -- I guess it tried to eat half of his fish overnight.
You: “A tank that weird looking was probably really expensive, huh?”
Me: “…Yep, it sure was.”
You: “Seems kind of form over function. Like, it’s cool that you can have a clear view from the top, but there’s only a tiny hole at the top. It has to be an absolute pain in the ass to do any work in there.”
Me: “It is ridiculously annoying, yes.”
You: “At least you only have to set everything in the tank up once?”
Me: “Oh, no, I do a total revamp every few months and rearrange the entire goddamn thing. Just did it today. Took 4.5 hours and got dirty water on all of me. By the end there was more dirty water on me than there was in the aquarium to begin with, somehow. It was truly unpleasant. But, you know, a change of scenery is good enrichment for the fish.”
You: “… so how many fish do you have in there?”
You: “Is it at least a BIG fish?”
Me: “Funny you should ask! It’s a single dwarf pea puffer! He’s ridiculously tiny! He also happens to be wildly aggressive, so I can only have one fish in that tank!”
You: “Is he easy to take care of?”
Me: “Haha, no, he only eats live food! Not even frozen or freeze dried, he wants the kill! He’ll settle for bloodworms but his whole fucking jam is snails, so I had to buy a special tool to scrape pest bladder snails off the glass of my other aquariums with, and then I have to dump them in his tank and watch him methodically murder them. He is incredibly efficient at sucking their unsuspecting bodies right out of their shell in one incredibly fast tactical strike.”
You: “Well, you must really, uh, love that fish?”
Me: “Hm? Oh, yeah, the fish. I guess he’s fine.”
You: “Then why the hell would you even have such a ridiculous setup-“
Me, clutching your shirt collar, breathing very loudly, eyes filled with the anguish that only someone who has seen their favorite aquarium plants eaten alive can ever know: “Because I fucking. hate. bladder. snails.”
OP, please show us the fish
they seem a bit too optimistic...
thevelvetpelican: Me: *finishes a jar of something* Time to recycle this glass jar! My crow brain:...
Me: *finishes a jar of something* Time to recycle this glass jar!
My crow brain: Keep it. KEEP IT.
Me: But I don’t really need another jar-
Crow brain: PUT LITTLE TRINKETS IN IT. SHINY THINGS.
Never saw Nicole's comments.
It has been literal years but every time I see Martin’s tweets posted somewhere and his word is shared as truth while her post is not shared it sort of reiterates the fact that we trust men to speak about feminism more than we believe women who experience it.
Interesting, innit? https://medium.com/@nickyknacks/working-while-female-59a5de3ad266
Reading her account of how their boss treated her blows me away. Men are so emboldened that they will literally admit to illegal discrimination casually and face no consequences.
In all the years of seeing this post I’ve never seen a link to her side. Didn’t even know she’d written one.
Adding screenshots of her post. His whole post is there without needing a link. Hers should be, too.
Also, she posted this is 2017! It’s fucking 2020 and I’ve seen his side of this for years, but it took 3 years for her side to make its way to my dash…
These are amazing — and shockingly accurate. Did you know there’s a “Bechdel test” for female scientist biographies?
don’t say anything, just reblog
I’m the Guy Setting Off Fireworks Every Night In Your Neighborhood and I Have You Right Where I Want You
Uhg, I wish Frank would sleep -- I hear him at ~2AM sometimes.
“From New York to Los Angeles to Hartford, Conn., complaints and reports about fireworks have ballooned over the last month.” — Time, 6/19/20
Well, well, well. Look who came crawling across the street, begging for mercy.
For those who don’t already know me: My name is Frank, I live in the little blue bungalow at the end of the street, and for the last four months I’ve been terrorizing the neighborhood with nightly firework displays, strategically designed to exhaust you into submission.
Fueled by boredom, revenge, and armed with 600 pounds of illegally-obtained pyrotechnics, I have assaulted your senses and assumed control of these streets. I stand before you now, not as the pushover neighbor whose recycling bins everyone steals, but as a conquering hero.
Kneel before me and embrace me as your all-powerful firework overlord! I am the destroyer of movie climaxes! Traumatizer of pets! Disruptor of sleep cycles! And all shall suffer my wrath.
You fools! While you were busy worrying about a global pandemic, battling racial inequality, and saving your pennies in preparation for the country’s cannonball into economic ruin, I was off buying up every last bottle rocket in North America. How could I afford such an expense? Don’t worry about it. I’m certainly not a member of a large firework syndicate funded by Russian oligarchs, intent on fostering national chaos and disrupting the upcoming election through a campaign of never-ending, ill-timed illuminations.
That would be ridiculous.
Regardless, I’m delighted to announce that after months of dedication, my persistence has paid off. I’ve got you right where I want you: Exhausted. Paranoid. Prone to flinching at small noises.
I hope you’ll indulge me in my moment of triumph. I’m not one to brag, but torturing people with random acts of fireworks is kind of my thing. I like to draw you in with a couple of sparklers at twilight. Maybe launch an after-dinner Roman Candle or two for a little pizzazz. Then, just as you’re about to settle in for the evening, maybe pour yourself a nice cold glass of white wine to sip while you nod off to The Voice —
I drop an M-80 on your ass with enough force to set off every car alarm from here to Kansas.
You underestimated me. You thought I was weak, insignificant. You continued to steal my recycling bins, even after I labeled them very clearly with my name and home address. But look at me now. I bet no one’s lusting after my bins now that you know that stacked inside my one-car garage are enough explosives to guarantee your baby won’t sleep through the night till their high school graduation.
Resistance is futile. Rage against me on Twitter, threaten me with litigation in your Nextdoor message threads — I won’t see it. I gave up Wi-Fi so I could focus all my energy on blowing shit up. You can file as many noise complaints as you like, but I will not stand down. The Earth will run out of natural resources long before I exhaust my supply of celebratory dynamite sticks.
There are, of course, those who seek to destroy me, and to them I say: take heed. Like the heads of Cerberus, I am only one of many. You can move away or even flee the state, but you’ll find it makes no difference. Wherever you go:
Baby, it’s a firework.
Which brings me to my next point: After months of systematically fraying your nerves and holding your REM cycles hostage, I’m sure you’re curious as to what it is I want. My list of demands are as follows:
- I would like my recycling bins returned. All six of them.
- I want to help plan the neighborhood block party, and I want to be allowed to use the grill.
I don’t like to threaten, but failure to deliver upon these requests will result in decisive action on my part — but it won’t be swift. In fact, you’ll never know when it’s coming.
You’ll return to your normal life. You’ll begin to sleep through the night. Your dogs will poke their noses out of the closets in which they’ve sought shelter, and at the exact moment everyone has let their guard down:
Skyrockets in flight, motherfucker.
So that’s the deal. Return my bins or suffer the consequences. And to anyone who might be wondering, I will be taking July 4th off to visit the lake for some much-needed peace and quiet.
yeltsinsstar:And if you want to know how far that can spread, just watch a smoker or a vaper exhale...
I would love to see him replaced by indigenous folks.
In every case, far more stone monuments remain than are removed. A survey by the Southern Poverty Law Center found some 1,800 named memorials honoring Confederates. Add to that union generals. And military leaders from the American Revolution, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The generals are men of course. One study said there is a “staggering lack of public statues of women.” A database in the New Statesman in the U.K. and The Washington Post in the U.S. found only 13% and 7% of statues in these countries depict historical women as opposed to historical men.
Who should we be honoring?
So what’s next? How do we make the stone-tablet version of our history more representative of the actual history?
Wednesday, President Donald Trump nixed the idea of renaming military bases to make the country more reflective.
“These Monumental and very Powerful Bases have become part of a Great American Heritage, and a history of Winning, Victory, and Freedom,” Trump tweeted. “Therefore, my Administration will not even consider the renaming of these Magnificent and Fabled Military Installations. Our history as the Greatest Nation in the World will not be tampered with. Respect our Military.”
A few statues of American Indians and Alaska Natives are spread out across the country. In fact: Some of the most representative locations are Congress and a few state legislatures. In the U.S. Capitol (standing alongside Andrew $%!* Jackson, colonizer Junipero Serra, would-be dictator Huey P. Long and missionary killer Marcus Whitman) there is Kamehameha I, Po’Pay, Will Rogers, Sakakawea, Sarah Winnemucca, Standing Bear Washakie and Sequoyah.
So at least 4% scoundrel (certainly could have added more names to that side of the ledger) and 8% Indigenous.
Let’s play “what if?” What if the rest of the country was like that? Who should we be honoring?
Imagine the 20th century and the Native leaders that could be honored on civic plazas, in front of city halls or on university campuses. (Yes, there are a few now, but we are talking numbers. At least 2% of all the statues. And even better is the 7% goal set by Congress’ own example.)
The list could include:
Vine Deloria Jr., Standing Rock. It’s hard to chronicle Vine Deloria in terms of his importance to the country and to Native America. He was a thinker. An architect of change. And, always, a writer. When it comes to honoring the past, Custer Died For Your Sins defines the possible. “Crazy Horse never drafted anyone to follow him. People recognized that what Crazy Horse did was for the best and was for the people,” Deloria wrote. “When Crazy Horse was dying, having been bayoneted in the back at Fort Robinson, Nebraska, Crazy Horse said to his father, ‘Tell the people it is no use to depend on me any more.’
“Until we can once again produce people like Crazy Horse, all the money and help in the world will not save us. It is up to us to write the final chapter of the American Indian upon this continent.”
Deloria could have been writing about himself.
Lucy Covington, Colville. She was a rancher-turned-politician who led the fight against the failed policy of termination in the 1960s. Termination was an idea to save money by ending the federal government’s relationship with tribes. (She would sell a cow to pay her way to Washington.) One of the tools that she used in this fight: a tribal newspaper. She started Our Heritage, a newspaper with the mission of informing tribal members about the issues. She would lead a quiet campaign to quell what she called the “present fever and fervor for termination.”
Howard Rock, Inupiat. He was the legendary founder and editor of The Tundra Times. He once called his newspaper an “unselfish venture.” The Tundra Times was essential reading for anyone and everyone interested in Alaska issues. Rock maintained a nonpartisan editorial position but endorsed individual candidates based on Native issues. He also wrote about Native culture, and the newspaper carefully followed and reported on the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act developments until the legislation became law in 1971.
Annie Dodge Wauneka, Navajo. She became a nurse caring for patients during an influenza pandemic. She had the flu when she was young and gained enough antibodies to be immune. Later she traveled door-to-door on the Navajo Nation explaining tuberculosis. She was the first woman member of the Navajo Nation Council. And she was given the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Jackson Sundown, Nez Perce, born as Waaya-Tonah-Toesits-Kahn. He was a champion rodeo rider who became a folk hero because of his performance in the 1916 Pendleton Round-Up.
Elizabeth Peratrovich, Tlingit. She championed equal rights for Alaska Natives. She is credited for persuading lawmakers to pass the Anti-Discrimination Act of 1945, the first anti-discrimination law in the United States. Every year on Feb. 16, Alaska celebrates Elizabeth Peratrovich Day.
Billy Frank Jr., Nisqually. Frank was a tribal leader who fought for treaty rights, and that included defying the state of Washington on the river. He said: “I was not a policy guy. I was a getting-arrested guy.” But those arrests led to something. He became friends with those who shackled him. He was appointed to offices by the same governors who once had him arrested. He convinced the entire establishment in the Pacific Northwest that he was, indeed, right—and that folks were better off joining him in his cause.
And because of Billy Frank Jr., the salmon survive today and have returned to streams where they were once extinct. And the tribal communities of the Northwest are stronger in so many ways.
Wilma Mankiller, Cherokee. She was the first woman elected as principal chief of the Cherokee Nation. In a speech at Emory University, she told a story about the United States sending a negotiation team to meet the Cherokees and draft a treaty. One of the initial questions was: “Where are your women?” Cherokee women often accompanied their leaders at important ceremonies and negotiations—and it was inconceivable that the representatives from the federal government would come alone. How can you negotiate anything with only half your people or half a way of thinking? Mankiller was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Helen Peterson, Cheyenne and Lakota. She was the long-serving executive director of the National Congress of American Indians during much of the termination era. But that was her second career. Before that, she was an expert in Latin America, promoting human rights for farm workers and other Latin Americans. In 1949 she represented the United States at an international conference in Peru. She was a friend of Eleanor Roosevelt, who encouraged her to move to Washington, D.C. “The Indians are their own best spokesmen, their own best diplomats; but they can exercise these roles effectively only in proportion to their opportunities to exchange information and to use their combined strength and concerted voice,” she wrote in an article calling for more participation by Native people in elections. Her son, Max Peterson, put Helen Peterson’s career in perspective when she died. “During those times, there were no women in power, really,” he said in the Denver Post. “Her accomplishments don’t sound like much now because a lot of women are doing the same things, but back then, doing those things were a big deal. She went to Washington as a lobbyist. That was an exclusively male area, and she managed to do a great job on behalf of Indian legislation and Indian rights.”
Forrest Gerard, Blackfeet. Gerard was one of the first American Indians to work on Capitol Hill and helped guide the Senate past the policy of termination into tribal self-determination. He worked for U.S. Sen. Henry Jackson and the Interior Committee where the “golden era” of Indian policy bills rolled off a legislative assembly line, the Indian Finance Act, the Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act, and the Indian Health Care Improvement Act.
This list, of course, is not the end—only the beginning. Because in a country of this size and diversity it makes little sense to cling to statues that honor only a few, including historical figures unworthy of such acclaim. There remains a richer story that has yet to be told, chapter by chapter, stone by stone, and generation by generation.
This article was originally published by Indian Country Today. It has been published here with permission.
The post 10 Indigenous People Whose Statues Should Replace Columbus’ appeared first on Yes! Magazine.