Google Kicks off Black History Month Honoring

Black Mississauga Ojibwe Sculptor

Edmonia Lewis


Edmonia Lewis (1844-1907) was an American sculptor who worked for most of her career in Rome, Italy. She is the first woman of African-American and Native American heritage to achieve international fame and recognition as a sculptor in the fine arts world. Her work is known for incorporating themes relating to black people and indigenous peoples of the Americas into Neoclassical style sculpture. She emerged during the crisis-filled days of the Civil War, and by the end of the 19th century, she was the only black woman who had participated in and been recognized to any degree by the American artistic mainstream. – Wikipedia


My Parents for the last 30 years: you’re not sick you just need to try harder, if you believe you are sick you will be sick, think Positively.

Both my brother and I: grow up into sick adults in need of dire medical care for serious issues that will affect the rest of our adult lives, have been told repeatedly that medical intervention as a child would have spotted most of this and could have perhaps prevented some physical and mental trauma.


My brother and I, separated by 4000 miles and an ocean: look directly into the camera at each other like we’re on the office.

@ the person asking about filter feeding thai micro crabs, most people feed their freshwater filter feeders liquid fry food or baby brine shrimp! you just suck some of the fry food or defrosted baby (not adult) brine shrimp in a turkey baster or eye dropper and squirt it near them. if your other tank mates will tolerate it, a powerhead is a great way to make sure enough food is floating by him


Hey, thanks for sharing! This is a great tip – while Thai micro crabs can do pretty well on a diet consisting partly of regular foods it’s a great option to at least try regularly. 

This is also the best solution for those who keep the more “obligate” filter feeders that lack regular claws and have fan hands instead. Those definitely need to be fed using this method – some even like to give their filter sponge a good squeeze in front of their bamboo shrimp. Messy, but they love it! 🙂

Random Ehlers-Danlos PSA Time:



I’m hypermobile, but not flexible at all – which meant I didn’t realise I was hypermobile for a long time, and still means I fail certain tests for hypermobility, that uniformly assume flexibility.

And…my inflexibility is actually closely linked to my hypermobility.

My muscles are constantly tight and seizing…because they’ve literally spent the last 30 years holding my skeleton together.

I’ve had so many doctors and PTs and MTs over the years comment on how well-developed and tight my muscles are. I deal with near constant musculoskeletal pain, and I get migraines when the muscles in my neck and shoulder spasm. This gets amplified hugely when I’ve had a full dislocation – my muscles will be spasmy and inflamed in that area for days. And conversely, it’s no coincidence that as soon as I take a muscle relaxant, my bones decide to just hold a fucking rave inside my skinbag.

So like, yeah. The fact I’m not bendy at all actually makes perfect sense in the context of hypermobility.


Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it’s something that’s almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.



Carpathia received Titanic’s distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.

(Californian’s exact position at the time is…controversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanic’s distress rockets. It’s uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)

Carpathia’s Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanic’s aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.

All of Carpathia’s lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.

I don’t know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.

Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awake–prepping a ship for disaster relief isn’t quiet–and all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.

And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.

Here’s the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining rooms–which, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when she’d done that, he asked her to go faster.

I need you to understand that you simply can’t push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only reckless–it’s difficult to maneuver–but it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They can’t do it. It can’t be done.

Carpathia’s absolute do-or-die, the-engines-can’t-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.

No one would have asked this of them. It wasn’t expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a respondibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.

They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.

This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanic’s last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.

In total, 705 people of Titanic’s original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.

At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.

I think the least we can do is remember them for it.

Reblogging to add that although he had the option of disembarking the survivors at The Azores, which would have been the least costly option for The Cunard Line, Captain Rostron instead steamed straight for New York at top speed. He choose to reunite the passengers as quickly as possible with their families in New York who had learned of the disaster and were desperately awaiting their arrival.