As climate change increases the temperature and makes larger portions of spring and summer days unbearable we can, must, and should bring back and universalize the siesta. I want to clock out after lunch and go tf to bed. Humanity already solved the “it’s too damn hot out to work” problem in tropical and subtropical societies the world over and more than ever we need to unionize for naptime.
Only the most miserable people on the planet are obsessed with bone structure. Terfs. Incels. Racists probablty. Whoever still thinks that the weird skull shape astrology- no wait I did remember the word. Phrenology. Whoever still thinks that phrenology has any scientific value. Nobody who’s enjoying their life goes out of their way to turn the framework of your meatsuit into an inescapable prison.
Future archeologists aren’t going to look at my implausibly well-preserved carcass and go “this is a female skeleton”, and call it a day. They’re going to look at it and go “hmm, this isn’t the standard early 2000s era cadaver amount of microplastics. This mf was eating macroplastics.”
You know, I think this place could be so different from all the other places we’ve been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.
stories where the characters are doomed from the start because everything that’s happened has already happened and they tell you that from the beginning, this is just a story they’re telling you, and it does not have a happy ending, and it never will, and there’s a reason for it, and it’s going to keep happening, again and again and again, to make sure it never happens again
