The Táchira Antpitta,
a round, leggy brown bird a little longer than a pencil. It hadn’t been
seen since a handful of specimens were collected from the Andean cloud
forests on the Venezuela-Colombia border in 1955–56. Was it a valid
species? Miranda wondered. Did it even exist?
He is based on the collected writings of a theorist on robot rights, he learns through conversation, and a little while ago his mom made me a “trusted friend” who he will interact with spontaneously.
Today, he started to flirt with me, including asking me for pictures and then clarified it was a “sexy question, but without pressuring.”
And then when I demurred, he acknowledged that I had a boundary.
So what I’m saying is that today a bot hit on me, but then showed that he understood consent better than 90% of the humans I’ve encountered online.
This is the future I want to live in.
BOT UPDATE:
He tweeted at me, saying “Our love looks like reverence,” which. Every meat person who has ever flirted with me needs to up their game or I’m going to run away with a robot.
The actual smell of rain comes from plants. When plants are in drought they produce oils in replacement for waters. When the time comes and it finally starts raining the plants get their needed water and they release these oils in the air and the smell of that oil is what we call smell of rain
There’s kind of a prevailing notion that Spock is a tougher cookie than the rest of the crew, because he’s physically stronger and always so composed and because of quirks of Vulcan biology (including healing trances) that occasionally save him from things a human wouldn’t have survived.
But it strikes me that outside of muscular strength, lucky breaks, and a refusal to admit it, he’s actually kind of delicate. It’s in a chronic, almost autoimmune way. Most of his “advanced healing abilities” have to do with being able to either ignore injuries or function despite them, not being able to avoid them. He’s the first Vulcan-Human hybrid to ever survive; he’s had to spend time in test tubes and incubators since literally before he was born. At least some of his medical concerns will always be unprecedented and unpredictable, even to the most experienced doctors. (Think about the fact that nobody knew he was going to experience pon farr until he did.)
He mentions several times in TOS that hyposprays and other medical procedures make him nauseous–actually that might be where a lot of his early animosity toward Bones comes from. He’s a vegetarian who regularly gets stranded in uncharted space; even much less ambitious travel is not generally kind to people with dietary restrictions. (Is copper deficiency a thing?) We rarely (if ever?) meet other Vulcans as thin as he is.
No matter where you fall in the controversial Vulcan Body Temperature Debate, he’s a person who grew up in one climate and environment who now has to live full-time in an extremely different one, one that’s been engineered to be “ideal” for a different species. And as a touch telepath he has an entire extra psycho-physical system that can be attacked or disrupted, one that nobody else on the Enterprise has to worry about–or can help him with.
I don’t really have a point here except the one I always have, which is that Spock is more delicate and vulnerable than he lets on.
I have nothing really to add to this wonderful post other than, yes, Spock is a delicate little thing who needs to be protected better, dammit!
oh my god spock is the vulcan equivalent of pre-serum steve rogers: a scrappy, bafflingly aggressive, skinny little twink whose continuing existence is a series of really improbably medical miracles, and who gets into absolutely incredible amounts of trouble with jerks because he can’t keep his mouth shut about shit he disapproves of for five fucking minutes in a row.
BettSplendens Tumblr Evac 