Newborn baby stuns doctors by holding her own bottle (in the UK)
A baby girl has amazed doctors with her ability to hold her own feeding bottle. Two-week-old Ammra was able to grasp her bottle alone just three days after she was born at Queen’s Hospital, Romford in Essex, her mother Onyi Chiedozie said.The 20-year-old, who is using a combination of breast and bottle feeding, said doctors and nurses were stunned by the baby’s ability to master her strong grip so soon after she was born.
this baby is gonna be a brain surgeon when she’s like 10
For people who are like big deal, she held a cup.
My nephew didn’t hold a bottle till he was like one. Most babies don’t know how to process gravity or the concept of if you grip the bottle it stays close to you where you can suckle it and if you tilt it back the liquid is accessible and it’s a lot to process for a baby okay.
This baby is way ahead in neuromuscular and cognitive development. She’s one of the xmen probably, it’s really amazing, the equivalent of a baby saying it’s first word at 2 months old ok it’s really amazing
Polygons measuring spoon
This is awesome!
in other news, this post got extremely popular overnight because people realised that they could do this with the editor as well
that last one looks like a floppy joke rubber chicken omg
For the first time ever, a paralyzed man can move his fingers and hand with his own thoughts thanks to a new device. A 23-year-old quadriplegic is the first patient to use Neurobridge, an electronic neural bypass for spinal cord injuries that reconnects the brain directly to muscles, allowing voluntary and functional control of a paralyzed limb.
omg omg omg
in a world where you only really need one hand to communicate, that is massive and amazing, wow
Yes, I know I reblogged it before; I’m reblogging it again.
This image epitomises the delight I get from transformative works, and it’s a beautifully eloquent response to Robin Hobb’s misguided rant about fanfiction:
“The intent of the author is ignored. A writer puts a great deal of thought into what goes into the story and what doesn’t. If a particular scene doesn’t happen ‘on stage’ before the reader’s eyes, there is probably a reason for it. If something is left nebulous, it is because the author intends for it to be nebulous. To use an analogy, we look at the Mona Lisa and wonder. Each of us draws his own conclusions about her elusive smile. We don’t draw eyebrows on her to make her look surprised, or put a balloon caption over her head. Yet much fan fiction does just that. Fan fiction closes up the space that I have engineered into the story, and the reader is told what he must think rather than being allowed to observe the characters and draw his own conclusions.” Robin Hobb on fanfiction
And she’s wrong, she’s SO wrong. Granted, drawing a mustache onto the Mona Lisa would be a bad thing, a final thing, a change-the-source thing, but there are COUNTLESS images that mess with the Mona Lisa without ever actually damaging the source image, without ever preventing a viewer from engaging with the pristine source image and interpreting it as they see fit. The Mona Lisa remains inviolate, regardless of weed-smoking iterations or The Da Vinci Code, and the audience are free to interpret her as they will. Transformative works based upon her are examples of people sharing one possible interpretation, or addressing problems they perceive, or bringing a marxist/feminist/whateverist reading to the fore, or just making their friends giggle.
This, though, this is so much better than anything I’ve seen that transforms the Mona Lisa. This takes that gorgeous, familiar image of Vermeer’s Girl With A Pearl Earring (an image that the book and movie of the same name have made familiar to people outwith Art History students [who might know it as the ‘Mona Lisa of the North’]) and reworks it with brilliant and elegant simplicity.
Manet’s painting ‘Olympia’ does something similar with Titian’s ‘Venus of Urbino’ (which is itself a reworking of Giorgione’s ‘Sleeping Venus’); Georgione dresses up his objectifying & titillating high class porn as an image of a goddess, and has her eyes closed - she doesn’t know we’re ogling her. She’s helpless before our (male) voyeuristic gaze. Titian’s nude knows we’re ogling her, but she’s still putatively a goddess, and despite that she’s glancing coyly away as she consciously provokes the viewer, offering herself up to him. Manet’s nude, however, is unambiguously presented as a human and a prostitute, and she looks straight out at the viewer, her hand on her thigh making it clear that she alone chooses who gets access to her sex. The painting was received with shock and disgust and had to be protected from those who wanted to destroy it for its obscenity - not for showing naked flesh, but for making the naked woman into a subject, rather than an object.
God, I’m rambling. Anyway, point being - transformative work, intratextual work, is most emphatically not a new thing, nor a creatively barren thing. It’s awesome. And this image here is delicious, because it takes that lovely painting, in which the model is mysterious, alluring, her parted lips gleaming and her eyes wide as she looks out at the viewer, objectified - and it drags it straight into the 21st century by adding the camera, making it into that recognisable MySpace pose, making her the CREATOR of the image not just the object. She is looking at herself, not at us, and this careful composition becomes an ephemeral snapshot, a fleeting moment in her day.
Reblogging for all the commentary. There has been so much transformative work that has elevated the original, turned it on its head, made us all think, and yes, hangs in museums today. When the author of that quote thumbs her nose at fanfiction, she turns her head away from Warhol, from Ovid, from motherfucking Shakespeare.
These are the creators who have transformed their world and placed their own indelible marks on society as we know it, with their “fanworks”.
there is this idea in the world that the author is somehow infallible. that they can’t make mistakes when it comes to their text. and to a certain extent, yes, that’s true; what happens in the canon is canon and that is that. no amount of it being stupid or poorly thought-out or narratively problematic will make it not so.
but the idea that this somehow translates into “everything the author does is perfect STOP TOUCHING THE THING I MADE” isn’t based on some kind of high-minded artiness. it’s territorial.
and look, i get it. this is a thing that you made, that you put your heart in soul into, and i understand not wanting other people messing it up. you love those characters, you don’t want some dumbshit thirteen year old writing them in a poorly-imagined porno with that background character you secretly think is a little shit.
but you know what? that’s too damn bad.
because the very act of engineering
the space … into the story, [where the reader is] allowed to observe the characters and draw his own conclusions
is what fanfiction is for.
what is it, exactly, that you think fanfiction is? it is the act of drawing conclusions. a fanfiction writer is the most active, engaged, hungry reader you’re ever going to get. so if you want someone who is going to sit back and drool mindlessly over how pretty your words are, yeah, you know what? fanfiction writers are not for you.
but if you want to talk about it, if you want people to actually engage with your art, have it affect them, then you’ve got to be willing to let your intent give up the ghost a little.
ps. i’ve said it once and i’ve said it again, shakespeare wrote fanfiction. he literally wrote ovid fanfiction. and what exactly do you think adapted movies are? what do you think “she’s the man” is? what do you think “the lion king” is? they’re AUs.
i can just see Walt Disney with his own blog being like, “oHMYGDO i just tripped and wrote a hamlet au except their lions wHAt am I DOING” and amanda bynes like, “i did a highschool soccer au for 12th night and i’m not even sorry about it” and way back in the late 1500s/early 1600s shakespeare wrote a letter to ann and he was like, “i just did a retelling of philomel but with a lady it’s AWESOME ps say hi to the kids for me xoxo billy.”
spoiler alert: those things didn’t happen. but like. metaphorically they did.
“Fan fiction closes up the space that I have engineered into the story, and the reader is told what he must think rather than being allowed to observe the characters and draw his own conclusions.”
Fanfiction is the drawing of those conclusions. That’s the point. It just takes it a step further and writes them down as opposed to keeping them purely mental. Just because someone writes a fic about a missing scene doesn’t mean everyone else has to accept it. It just means that people are engaging with the material and with each other. And frankly, I cannot understand how that could in any way be considered a bad thing. Do you not want your readers to engage with your text? Do you not want them to get attached to the characters, to want to know as much about them as possible, to view them as real people? Do you not want them to connect with each other out of love for the text you have created? That seems like a profoundly selfish attitude and an insulting one at that.
Everything above about fanfic. My opinion of an author has started seriously going DOWN if I find out they have a vocal negative opinion on fanfic of their works.
My favourite author opinion on fanfic is Jasper Fforde’s - he came to our bookshop for a signing and talk and the topic came up and he explained, while he was bemused and a little negative about the concept when he first discovered it as a phenomenon (via someone emailing him a fic set in his Thursday Next series and asking for an opinion on their writing - so NOT the best introduction), he has come to consider it a CELEBRATION of the stories and characters the fic is based on. Which I think is a great and pretty accurate description :)
All that said, about the painting/picture above - isn’t she pointing the camera at US though, as opposed to taking a picture of herself?
All of this. Fanfiction can be a fan trying to fis in their own headspace something that they didn’t like in the original piece, and then sharing it, or it can be a great celebration of the work that inspired it. Either way, it means they are attached to your work and that it got them thinking, that what you did has some meaning for them and has allowed them to grow.
Fanfiction (and fanart, for that matter) is one of the most fascinating phenomenon there is. It’s people absorbing a given artwork, making it theirs, criticizing it, discussing it, interpreting it, contributing to it with their experience and what they are without actually changing the original in any way. As a mass phenomenon, it get further than that, because it’s people sharing that transformative work, deciding to give it as a gift to the world, to whomever feels like welcoming it, without money or any other interests than personal pleasure involved.
We willingly put our works in common and let other people anjoy them for free, with no harm done to anyone, no resouces wasted, no significative limitations, asking for nothing in return. Just because we want to. Writer or not, as a person I could never consider such an activity something negative.
"All that said, about the painting/picture above - isn’t she pointing the camera at US though, as opposed to taking a picture of herself?"
I believe she is supposed to be taking a picture of herself in a mirror.
Coldest Star Found—No Hotter Than Fresh Coffee
According to a new study, a star discovered 75 light-years away is no warmer than a freshly brewed cup of coffee.
Dubbed CFBDSIR 1458 10b, the star is what’s called a brown dwarf. These oddball objects are often called failed stars, because they have starlike heat and chemical properties but don’t have enough mass for the crush of gravity to ignite nuclear fusion at their cores.
With surface temperatures hovering around 206 degrees F (97 degrees C), the newfound star is the coldest brown dwarf seen to date.
I’m gonna…I’m gonna touch it..
It’s good to have goals.
im gonna fuck it
Imagine Hogwarts after the Battle, after the War, sure –
But imagine Hogwarts’ students, after their year with the Carrows and Snape.
Imagine a tiny little first-year whose porcupine pincushions still have quills, but to whom Fiendfyre comes easily. The second-year who tried to go back, to fight; whose bravado got Professor Sinistra killed, as she pushed him out of the way of a Killing Curse. The third-year who perfectly brewed poisons, hands shaking, wishing for the courage to spike the Carrows’ cups. The fourth-year who throws away all of their teacups, their palmistry guidebooks, because what use is Divination if it didn’t see this coming? The fifth-year who can barely remember what O.W.L.S. are, let alone that she was supposed to take them. The sixth-year who can’t manage Lumos to save their life, but whose proficiency with the Cruciatus Curse rivals Bellatrix’s.
Imagine the seventh-year who laughs until he cries, thinking about the first-years who will fall asleep in History of Magic while their story is told.
Imagine the Muggleborn first-years left alive, if there are any: imagine what they think of the magical world, when their introduction to it was Death Eaters and being tortured – by their classmates –for having been born.
Imagine the students who went home to their parents (or guardians, or wards, or orphanages) and showed them what they’d learned: Dark curses, hexes, Unforgiveables; that Muggles are filth, animals, lesser. Who, yes, still can’t transfigure a match into a needle – but Mum, there’s a hex that can make you feel as though you’re being stabbed with thousands. (Don’t ask them how they know.)
Imagine the students who will never be able to see Hogwarts as home.
Imagine the students Hogwarts has left, when it starts up again – the lack of Muggleborns, blood-traitors, half-bloods, dead and gone – the lack of purebloods; the Ministry would have chucked everyone of age (and possibly just below) in Azkaban for Unforgiveables, wouldn’t they?
Imagine how few students there are left to teach; imagine how few teachers are left to teach them.
Imagine the students who can’t walk past a particular classroom, who can’t walk through a hallway, who can’t walk into the Great Hall without having a panic attack or breaking down. Imagine the school-wide discovery that the carriages aren’t horseless after all; that everyone, from the firsties to the teachers, can see Thestrals.
Imagine the memorials, the heaps of flowers and mementoes – in every other corner, hallway, classroom; every other step you take on the grounds.
Imagine the ghosts.
Imagine the students destroying Snape’s portrait, using the curses, hexes, even Fiendfyre they’ve been taught how to wield – it has to be restored nearly every week; Snape stays with Phineas Nigellus semi-permanently. (None of the other portraits will welcome him. His reasons do not excuse his conduct.)
Imagine the students unable to trust each other – everyone informed on everyone, your best friend might turn you in.
Imagine the guilt that everyone carries (it should have been me, it’s my fault they’re dead, I told on them, it’s all my fault), the students incapable of meeting each other’s eyes because it’s my fault your best friend, your sibling, your Housemate, your lover is dead.
Imagine the memorials piled high with the wands of the dead. Imagine the memorials piled high with the self-snapped wands of the living.
Imagine the students who are never able to produce a Patronus.
Imagine Boggarts being removed from the curriculum because Riddikulus is near impossible to grasp, even for the sixth- and seventh-years. Because their friends and families dead will never, ever be funny.
Imagine the students for whom magic feels tainted.
Imagine the students who leave the wixen world – hell, the students who leave Britain entirely, because there’s nothing left for them there.
Imagine the students who never use magic again.
(From the mind of the wonderful lavenderpatil, a keen look at how students might be after war.)