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#analogy
detailedart · 2 years
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1. Fresh picture of the spinning Phantom Galaxy by the new James Webb Space Telescope *• 2. Nautilus shell cut in half. | Golden ratio.
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art-of-mathematics · 1 year
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More brain dough content!
now: nuclear pasta!
I love the creativity of those silly scientists - Quantum foam [termed by John A. Wheeler some decades ago] was just the beginning! Now come all sorts of nuclear pasta - nuclear gnocchi, spaghetti, waffles, lasagna... etc... Who said physics is not [f/y]ummy? [funny and/or yummy]
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undergroundrockpress · 9 months
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Analogy, 1972.
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redconsumerism · 5 months
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TO CONSUME IS (not) TO LOVE
cannibalism in romance novels
Cannibalism is like a parallax. For once it exists as a ‘philia’, characterized by the desire of eating another. And we find that it exists in the opposite spectrum, in the form of a ‘phobia’, which speaks of the fear of being eaten or partaking unknowingly or forcefully in the act of eating another. To vore is adjacent to love in most cases, both feared and desired. Because to love someone is (apparently) to want to consume them. 
Though cannibalism might seem like a barbaric and horrific concept, it is said to be one of the most intense demostrations of love that exist in both classic and contemporary literature. The gruesome gesture reminds the lecturer of the intensity of love and its lunacy. As Mercedes Abad stated in spanish newsletter ‘el tiempo’ on May 21st, 1995 ‘There is no doubt that love and sex are feasts where, to a greater or lesser extent, we all become anthropophagi who would surely find it quite difficult to answer the question of whether there is greater pleasure in phagocytosing the other or in being phagocytosed.’ Because Cannibalism as a metaphor for love in romance novels, as it is in our day to day, is more about the blind consumerism of it rather than the pureness of it. One example of blind consumerism of love would be in Salvador Dali's Autobiography, where it is mentioned how Gala cooked their pet rabbit because of how much they loved it, in front of the woman’s refusal to the idea of leaving the rabbit with the maids.
To love is to consume, but to consume is to devour and transform in reusable energy. Like a vampire would when consuming someone’s blood, so they can continue living at the other’s cause. You live off the love you take, but if you devour that love, the other cannot live. The truth is cannibalism has a double connotation, and consuming the other’s otherness is three dimensional. Which means it isn’t always about love, or the lack thereof, but more so about the act of possessing. Cannibalism isn’t only one of the greatest manifestations of tenderness (for many), but also the irrevocably selfishness of an individual blinded by desire - in front of the morbid contemplation of the lover giving themselves so the other can survive -. The amorous-sexual instincts that resurface from a deep sense of infatuation together with those of hunger - a basic instinct - that create an irrational longing, unite in cannibalism as an analogy for that which we wish to become one with. It leaves you to question if the love narrated is but an act of survival for starved people.
‘Love is only a prologue to two cannibals struggling to take a bite of each other.’ - La Oscuridad, Ignacio Ferrando Perez (2014.) Cannibalism is, then, the imposture of love, and the obscure craving of something bigger than yourself without any understanding of it. 
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nando161mando · 7 months
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paracosmic-gt · 3 months
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Woop de do, here comes another system analogy cause the car one isn't the best at describing our experience.
Your physical brain and body are the computer.
The mental processes, symptoms, thoughts, memories etc. are the apps and files on that computer. The power that runs the physical.
Some systems have a headmate that forms the OS, for others it's not sentient at all.
You are a user. You and your headmates use this computer and it's functions to play the game of life together.
You have different permissions to things than other users. You can use certain apps better than others, but then you can't open some files cause they're password protected. Your friend over there seems to know all of it but doesn't share.
Some of us are admins, some of us are guests. Some people make the computer overheat, others are perfect to cool it down. Some seem to delete everything. Others spend all their time on MS Paint.
But we all work together to keep the computer in one piece.
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goddessxeffect · 9 months
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MOSAIC
Today it's just a quick one, guys. A metaphor that helped me tremendously to get a clearer picture (lol) in the past and maybe to give you some comfort if you need any today.
Your current Ego is limited, its viewpoint is so tiny compared to who you really are, it's ridiculus to even worry about their circumstances. But I get it, you think you are that and that's why it feels so real to you.
Just imagine your current Vanessa (Ego) as a teeny-tiny shard in a very big mosaic picture.
From her point of view you will never see the whole masterpiece because the tiny shard is part of the picture like Vanessa is just another form (part) of You. Yes she doesn't look like the other shards, is unique in her own way, but nothing really distingushes her from the 'others' because they are just shards of glass in the picture too. Yes, they differ in shape, size & color but they are all made of the same substance (glass) and make up a grand total (glass mosaic).
And when there is an observer, does he really see all the parts or the whole picture as one?
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You see, you are so focused on one form of yourself, which is just an illusion anyway - a mere thought in the end - that you lost sight of the bigger picture. The true You.
You try to change that fixed shard (Vanessa) to fit a certain mold that it can never because it was always just a tiny speck and it is perfectly suited for the place it is in. You do that because You think it's all you are, on top of that. Choose another shard instead.
They are all just being observed by you, why the hustle when alternatives are already available? Yes, from Vanessas POV 'other' alternative shards seem unachievable/ not really possible to get because they are separat from HER and she is fixed into the picture.
But you are the whole picture, the All. Not just Vanessas shard. They belong to YOU, all of them, not matter the shape, size or color. They make YOU up, not the other way around.
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secondblooms · 4 months
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cepheusgalaxy · 4 months
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I made up a new transgender analogy:
Let's say life like is a game
But the settings of the game are all messed up. The colors are either too bright and hurt your eyes, or too null and it's underwhelming. The music's too loud, too chaotic, too boring or too low and you can't hear it at all. The game is nice, but you can barely enjoy it because the way it is set up is too annoying, it hurts your senses even. You wish there was a customing option.
You play the game and you can't custom it. You see how some people are comfortable with the way their games are set up and maybe you can't understand, "why is yours so shitty?" Some people get the same configuration that you got and they're happy.
Transitioning is like finding the customization setting. Perhaps you don't know what you want and have to try a lot of settings first, maybe you already know what is the right configuration for you and you go for it.
But somehow, some people are so mad because you've got to change your settings? "That's not the way the game is meant to be" "You're cheating" "That's not the real experience" "Why did you have to change it? Yours was fine." "Well I didn't have to change my settings." "Gosh you're going to regtet changing these settings someday" They make a fuss about it. They threaten to throw your game away. Some people are so mad they don't want to play with you. You wonder if you did right changing the settings? Some people want to change theirs but they see the reaction YOU got so they figure it's not worth it. It is so unbearable you start lying and saying that was the original configiration of your game all along. Sometimes you don't get an usual configuration and people wouldn't believe you got the game this way.
You may want to go back to the original configurations, you may want to throw the game away yourself.
Even though there is nothing wrong with the way you play. You play by the rules. You're not cheating, hacking, or harassing new players. You're just trying to play and have a good time. But it just happens that you need your game to be a little different from the way you've got it. And that makes it so hard to play, either if you keep it the original way and it affects your playing because it bothers SO MUCH, or if you manage to change the settings and people harass you for it.
There is nothing wrong with you.
Even so, you have such a hard time, because everybody wants YOUR game to be This Way. Even if you don't want it. You don't get a choice. And if you manage to make one, they'll say you're in the wrong.
You're not.
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stringbeansstuff · 2 months
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He didn't wanna wait for the walk signal and I did.
I asked him why he cared and he said that we looked stupid waiting when we could have gone. We weren't in a rush but he was determined to tell me my decision to wait was wrong.
He doesn't realize that my decision isn't as simple as that.
When you recover from wanting to end your life you start to do things that you didn't do before. Little things that make you feel alive. When I press that button and wait, I remind myself that I want to be safe. I want to live. Everytime I cross the street I look both ways, twice.
So yes I'll wait for the walk signal, even if I look ridiculous. Because before that I never cared if I risked it and went. I didn't care if a car came out of nowhere and I died.
The walk signal is a small reminder that I wanna try and be safe, that I wanna try and be here on earth.
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art-of-mathematics · 6 months
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Book source: Calculus Made Easy by Silvanus P. Thompson
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brunettedelulu · 2 months
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The Fig Tree Analogy *⁠.⁠✧
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I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
From, "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath, 1963.
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arlenelperez · 3 months
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Mixed Messages
You demand respect
Yet respect no one
You want deep connections
But never open up
You say, "Your feelings are valid"
Then dismiss them
You command the truth
Yet speak lies yourself
You act differently "irl"
Than on Social media
You create "boundaries" for yourself
But then, break mine.
You desire forgiveness
Without extending it
You expect our attendance
While disregarding your own
You require responses to your messages
Then, ignore ours in return
You need approval
Yet disapprove of everyone
You set high standards for all
Save yourself
You want unconditional love
While placing conditions on yours
You seek adoration
But send out humiliation
You preach "the Golden rule"
Then ignore it.
You say you want peace
But always start war.
Copyright by Arlene L. Perez on February 1, 2024
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bad-analysis · 2 months
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Can you imagine if every muscle in your body worked like your tongue
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pratchettquotes · 2 years
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There was no analogy for the way in which Great A'Tuin the world turtle moved against the galactic night. When you are ten thousand miles long, your shell pocked with meteor craters and frosted with comet ice, there is absolutely nothing you can realistically be like except yourself.
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
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