Sharing socks. My family used to have a sock basket next to our shoes. You didn’t own your own socks, you just grab a pair when you need them.
I mentioned “the sock basket” offhand to a friend in elementary school and she thought it was crazy. That’s when I learned that not every family has a community sock basket. Looking it up though, I find a couple reddit threads from people with the same experience (and people replying that it’s weird) 🤷♀️
Yeah but it depends.
An elementary school near me recently replaced their chest-height chain-link fence with a 10ft steel bar fence with spikes on top. There’s some benefits to a fence, but the spikes just make it seem menacing. And I guess more abstractly, it communicates that school is a dangerous place that’s walled-off from the rest of the world rather than a place that’s just like any other part of society. This is in the USA, I should mention, so maybe the cynical message is more accurate.
The orca from this story is from one of the same pods that was part of that trend, although she’s too young (1998) to have been part of the original trend. But perhaps her mother once wore a salmon hat
Orcas are very intelligent, emotional, and social, arguably moreso than any other non-human animal. For this orca individual, the reality was doubtlessly just as much of a dramatic and emotional journey as it appears in the headline.
Are they called shelled peanuts because they have their shells? or are they called shelled peanuts because they’ve been shelled, unshelling them? It’s literally ironic…
I met a somewhat old man on a Greyhound a few years ago who was pretty delirious and drifting in and out of sleep. Turns out he had been traveling non-stop for three days, heading from Georgia to his home in Oakland. He had been on a roadtrip with his friends in (what he described as) a cursed Mitsubishi which broke down a final time some 2500 miles from home. All his friends took flights back, but our protagonist did not bring any kind of ID with him and couldn’t take a plane. So there he was, having not slept much at all in 3 days, on the i-10 between Tucson and Phoenix.
He also borrowed my phone to call his wife, who it seemed had not sanctioned his roadtrip at all and was very mad at him. She eventually hung up on him. Handing my phone back to me, he assured me that she wouldn’t stay mad at him after seeing his baby-blue eyes upon his arrival in Oakland.
I don’t remember so many of the details, but hearing this guy’s life story and about his impulsive cross-country roadtrip was kinda strangely inspiring.
“designed to be sung to the tune of ‘Home on the Range.’”
(1) Oh, give me a clone
Of my own flesh and bone
With its Y chromosome changed to X
And after it’s grown
Then my own little clone
Will be of the opposite sex.
(Chorus) Clone, clone of my own
With its Y chromosome changed to X
And when I’m alone
With my own little clone
We will both think of nothing but sex.
(2) Oh, give me a clone
Is my sorrowful moan,
A clone that is wholly my own.
And if she’s X-X
And the feminine sex
Oh, what fun we will have when we’re prone.
(3) My heart’s not of stone,
As I’ve frequently shown
When alone with my own little X
And after we’ve dined,
I am sure we will find
Better incest than Oedipus Rex.
(4) Why should such sex vex
Or disturb or perplex
Or induce a disparaging tone?
After all, don’t you see
Since we’re both of us me
When we’re having sex, I’m alone.
(5) And after I’m done
She will still have her fun
For I’ll clone myself twice ere I die.
And this time without fail
They’ll be both of them male
And they’ll each ravage her by and by.
Source: autobiography of Isaac Asimov
The “sexual violence” tab on this page from worldpopulationreview.com makes it seem like India is very average.
However for sexual assault in general, it is so underreported in every country that I think it would be hard to tell if such data were more influenced by actual prevalence or just how often it is reported.