I was an Oni once, but I had to leave. I have returned; maybe not that different, but not unchanged. The forests, mountains, lakes and rivers, and oceans, are my cathedral. I am it’s reliquary. The miles traveled, pictures taken, and all that I have experienced are the relics. I’m a grown up. I claim no ownership of the media I post unless I specifically note that I own it. If you see something you own, and you don’t want it posted, let me know and I will take it down. No one under 21, please and thank you.
The Green Line: A whole different kind of different. Old as fuck, just walk across the tracks wherever you want to, more branches than an oak tree.
As I gaze at the structural column in Copley Station, cracked nearly in two and held together with zip ties that have been carefully painted over to match the column underneath, I feel my soul intertwined with that of a small Italian boy of days gone by, who also stopped to look up at a large, groaning, newly painted tank full of molasses
How the fuck this ever got through an IRB defined as non-human subjects research is bewildering. The subjects are highly at risk. Some of the most at risk participants you can find. I’m not sure how you could say, with this group of people, that the benefits of this research could outweigh the risk of harm. No true informed consent. This is the kind of thing that IRB panels were created to stop. I’d love to read their IRB application. It’s either patently dishonest, written by an evil genius, or both.
Also, claiming that agreeing to a company’s Privacy Policy is even remotely close to the same thing as “Informed Consent” is scary as hell. That’s not a slippery slope. That’s a cliff.
Another one for the block list. I can't believe the level of dystopia.
This Eastern American Toad and I have reached a mutually beneficial agreement. I get to check it out, and she gets to stay warm in my hand on chilly nights. Most nights, for the past few weeks, I’ll find her sitting by the door. She does not hop away and lets me pick her up and just relaxes in my hand.
It’s the embers that remain; not the fire, not the heat, not the blinding light. Anything you do, and love, in life is mostly about learning to appreciate the embers. That and learning how to sustain them.
Everyone desires and chases the fire, the inferno, the heat, and then feels lost, unhappy, unsatisfied, once they have burned everything and left only embers. Understand this, it’s all about the embers.