When people say ‘I hate math’ what you’re really saying is, ‘I hate the way mathematics was taught to me.’ Imagine an art class, in which, they teach you only how to paint a fence or wall, but never show you the paintings of the great masters. Then, of course, years later you would say, ‘I hate art.’ What you would really be saying is ‘I hate painting the fence.’ And so it is with math. When people say ‘I hate math’ what they are really saying is ‘I hate painting the fence.’
MATERIALS FUCKIN SCIENCEthejavaman
Source: Laughing Squid
Vetches and passion flowers have modified some of their leaves and converted them into tendrils. These grope around in space until they touch the stem of another plant and swiftly coil around it. The tendrils then coil and pull the plant up towards the sunlight.
Dian Fossey was born on January 16, 1932, in San Francisco, California. While working as an occupational therapist, Fossey became interested in primates during a trip to Africa in 1963. She studied the endangered gorillas of the Rwandan mountain forest for two decades before her unsolved murder occurred in 1985, at Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda. Fossey told her story in the book Gorillas in the Mist (1983), which was later adapted for a film starring Sigourney Weaver.
Primatologist and naturalist Dian Fossey was born on January 16, 1932, in San Francisco, California, and grew up with her mother and stepfather. Developing an affinity for animals at a young age, throughout her youth, Fossey was an avid horseback rider and an aspiring veterinarian. However, after enrolling in pre-veterinary studies at the University of California, Davis, she transferred to San Jose State College and changed her major to occupational therapy.
After graduating from San Jose in 1954, Fossey spent several months working as a hospital intern in California, and then moved to Louisville, Kentucky, where she began serving as director of the Kosair Crippled Children’s Hospital’s occupational therapy department in 1955. Living on a farm on the outskirts of Louisville, Fossey spent many off-hours happily tending to the livestock. But her contentment didn’t last long. She soon became restless, longing to see other parts of the world and setting her sights on Africa.
In September 1963, Fossey embarked on her first trip to Africa—which cost Fossey her entire life savings at the time, as well as a bank loan—visiting Kenya, Tanzania, Zimbabwe and the Congo, among other areas. She soon met paleoanthropologist Mary Leakeyand her husband, archaeologist Louis Leakey, one of the best-known husband-wife teams in the history of science.
Fossey then met Joan and Alan Root, native wildlife photographers who were working on a documentary of African gorillas at the time, and when the couple brought her along on one of their trips in search of the primates, Fossey was instantly enamored. She later explained her draw to gorillas in her 1983 autobiographical work,Gorillas in the Mist: “It was their individuality combined with the shyness of their behavior that remained the most captivating impression of this first encounter with the greatest of the great apes,” Fossey said. “I left Kabara with reluctance, but with never a doubt that I would, somehow, return to learn more about the gorillas of the misted mountains.”
This is a huge bat compilation in case you’re having a rough day. I hope this cheers y’all up.
Look at the adorable second picture by the way. *squeals*
For the boyf. Again. BC I know he’s had a rough few weeks, and bats always make him smile.
Life begins after coffee.
You know it’s spring when, just after sunset, the refrigerator constellation rises in the western sky.
(But seriously, remember that our perspective on the stars is at the same time wonderfully unique but not at all special, and the stellar stories that we write are products not only of our imaginations, but also our brain’s relentless desire to recognize patterns in random assortments of far away dots)
If Gordon Lish’s soliloquies have any counsel for today’s solipsistic culture it’s this: Every ‘I’ will always be a fiction; every first person is the last person you were.
Physically conjoined by separately sold upon construction, the lives of paired buildings (ones that share a common wall) can diverge dramatically as this photo series poignantly illustrates. In various cases, one half is occupied by squatters, filled with trash, burned out by a fire, boarded up, simply deserted or even entirely demolished.
This approach epitomizes a theme common to his work, which frequently focuses on showing change over time. Like twins separated at birth, these dual buildings (once mirror images of each other) are uniquely illustrative of change. They are found particularly often in Camden, a place with a long history of struggling against decline.