hey guys! here’s some fun things i learned from this article about Dion Diamond:
he did these sit-ins by himself. like idk about you, but i always thought of sit-ins as organized by groups, what kind of bravery does it take, man
he didn’t tell anyone about it, like he was no glory-seeker about this. his parents didn’t even know until reporters started calling them up like “hey, did you know your son is in jail?
when someone called the cops he’d skedaddle out the back door although he was sent to prison multiple times
the last time he got arrested was in Baton Rouge, and the cops were so sick of him that they told inmates they’d put in a good word for anyone who gave Diamond a hard time. (the inmates didn’t take the bait.)
he’s still alive!
hark, a hero of our times!
It’s important to remember that this happened a mere fifty-eight years ago, just two years older than my father. I can’t imagine going to a restaurant and not being permitted to sit down. Regardless of your politics, it’s vital to recognize the events that shaped our culture.
their arms are similar to our tongues in that their muscle fibers are oriented in three different directions
octopuses are disconcertingly strong (anecdotal evidence says that a 15 inch wide octopus was as strong as the scientist handling it)
on that note that same scientist said that when her octopuses escaped she would have to run behind them, “like cats” (paraphrased from sy montgomery’s the soul of an octopus)
aquariums have “octopus enriching programs” so they don’t get bored and fuck shit up in their tanks
they are crazy smart like. really. really fucking smart
but we can’t compare their intelligence to ours because our evolution branched from the same common ancestor so long ago we cannot comprehend how they think
it’s believed that their intelligence evolved when they lost their shell, and had to adapt to predict how countless of different prey and predators would act, how to avoid them, distract them, lure them or trick them
they visualize how other creatures are going to act, which means they have have awareness that others are individuals which is a type of consciousness but i can’t remember what it’s called right now
like, they use tools
they have distinct personalities
aquarium octopuses are socialized from a very young age and even though in the wild they are solitary creatures they become extremely friendly with enough human exposure
sometimes they dislike people for no apparent reason and will shoot water at them
they have three hearts
each of their arms has a tiny brain that controls movement and sensory input on its own i shit you not
they are color blind and yet they can camouflage their color and nobody knows how
they can change the color and texture of their skin faster than human eyes can keep up with it
great pacific octopuses are white when they are peaceful, and red when they’re excited
aquarium octopus have escaped their tanks and slithered down pipes into the ocean
escaped their tanks to eat the fish in other tanks
escaped their tanks to go fight other octopuses cuz they were bored
octopus fight club
learned how to take photographs
cost thousands of dollars by flooding new floors
they can feel, taste, and smell with their suckers and all of their skin
they enjoy tasting their food by slowly moving it through their suckers instead of shoving it in their beaks
they can rewrite their rna. no, really
the only reason why they haven’t evolved to take over as the next dominant race is because they’re doing pretty well in the ocean so there’s no need for them to adapt further
there’s a ton more but i’m so overwhelmed by love i can’ think of any at the moment i’m going to cry
read the soul of an octopus by sy mongomery no she didn’t pay me i just love octopuses so much
Also:
learned to shoot out the annoying light over the tank
hid in floor drains when caught out of their tanks by researchers
hid the shells of crabs stolen from a tank under a third, unrelated tank
Sy is a wonderful human and a great researcher. NEAq actually named a GPO after her in honor of all her work on octopuses. (Or octopi, or octopodes – they’re all correct). Definitely read that book.
-liked being splashed. Figured out that spitting water would have keepers splash back in response
– learned to spray 45°F water everywhere to demand splashes
-likes taking brushes from divers. Knows the best way to do this was to sneak up from underneath or reach over the shoulder
-will wait until keepers are looking away/distracted to grab stuff and knows exactly how far to sink down to get out of reach
-seriously octos are huge thieves. If you have something in your hand, they want it. As soon as they grab it, it belongs to them. There’s no food and they have no use for it? Doesn’t matter it’s their thing now.
-we lost a magnet scrubber for three days because one stole it from the interns. Every time she let it go and we reached a net to get it, she would snatch it out of the net and drag it back into the den. By the time we got it back she had torn apart the scrub pad
-honestly it’s like keeping an aquatic possessive 8-legged cat
Part of me thinks “Surely this isn’t true” but another part of me is like “This is not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard”
There’s part of me that can’t possibly believe this is real, bit I’ve read parts of the Old Bailey records, and this is … not exactly normal, but not that far from it. People stole lots of shit, and drunk theater people are a very odd lot.
“Let us steal… a theatre!” – W. Shakespeare, Leverage (1601)
It is with a heavy heart that I am forced to announce that I must disassemble my lawn chunks.
Yes, my critically tolerated yard sculpture “Lawn Chunks”, after having received glowing reviews such as: “Is that just like a whole ass fucking tree or what?”; “How’d you fit that in the Buick?”; and, “Patsy Ann, please stop putting chunks everywhere, it looks like a mummified octopus,” is unfortunately no more, as my dad wishes to “not have to look at this thing every goddamn day”.
As I cannot reasonably fit “Lawn Chunks” into the new apartment, her skeletal bits shall be removed and made into like maybe a jewelry stand or something, and this big ass piece of wood will be respectfully thrown over the guard rail, where hopefully my dad will not see it and yell and yell and yell because I lied and said I would not throw it over the guard rail. There are train tracks down there, and while I do not think I can throw that hard, I bet it would look incredibly sick if this thing got hit by a train.
RIP.
Stereotypes like this are the exact reason my chunks are being unjustly terminated, and I hope you have trouble sleeping at night knowing that Lawn Chunk’s innocent splinters are on your hands.
I call this one “Hmm This is a Pretty Fucked Up Thing to Find in the Woods and It’s Absolutely Haunted But Residual Catholic Guilt Prevents Me From Throwing It Away So I Guess It’s in a Tree Now”:
And this is a little installation known as: “I Took This Behind the Garage to Fix It and Forgot About It For Like a Whole Three Months and I Think There’s Ticks in It Now Which Isn’t Great Probably”.
I’m really just out here living my life like a cryptic swamp hag in a low budget backwoods slasher flick, and I mean, it’s fine, it’s sexy, but also I’m very concerned as to how exactly I’m going to survive in an apartment.
Z: “Kuja, do you hear me? I’m coming to get you!” K: “I don’t understand you. What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go…” Z: “Wouldn’t you do the same, if you knew I was dying?”
The final scene that the game didn’t show us but that I wanted to draw…
screaming into the void since '89 