wayfinder posted:

I don't get it, the spiral doesn't really line up with anything?

Tasteful Dickpic posted:

He's certainly Rubenesque, although that's more of a Baroque painter.

PBS Newshour posted:

The "spiral" is the golden ratio.

wayfinder posted:

It still doesn't line up with anything, particularly when they overlaid it over the whole picture...

oldpainless posted:

I understand its supposed to be funny but I dont think it is and Im ok that others do

Pick posted:

the fact is that the golden ratio doesn't correspond to anything

Son of Thunderbeast posted:

Fixed that for you. The golden ratio is nonsense to begin with, which is (probably) part of the joke.

Son of Thunderbeast posted:

Fixed that for you. The golden ratio is nonsense to begin with, which is (probably) part of the joke.

theflyingorc posted:

isn't the point that it just looks good to space things that way?

china bot posted:

i guffawed at the intertwining of high and low art forms

theflyingorc posted:

isn't the point that it just looks good to space things that way?

Son of Thunderbeast posted:

that's the only way to apply the Golden Ratio in any way that aligns with reality, yeah, but most folks still see it as some kind of big artistic secret.

It also looks good to space things a LOT of other ways. There's even evidence that other arrangements are found more aesthetically pleasing by more people on average.

Breetai posted:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You're dating your rapist,
He's going to kill you.

Pick posted:

It's just reminding me of the Red Letter Media review where he talked about A camera/B camera or whatever, which was genuinely applicable there, and then suddenly nerds were seeing it any time that the cameras were pointed at whoever was speaking.

Say Nothing posted:

Big Centipede posted:

Yes. Centipedes will guard their babies for a little while after they hatch

Rolo posted:

How the hell do you know so much about oh wait no yeah ok.

Son of Thunderbeast posted:

I mean ultimately that's probably pretty close to how the whole thing started. Some dude probably made a really insightful observation at some point about how the GR can describe an aesthetically pleasing composition, and then tons of people took it to be a direct causal relationship until someone heard about it and popularized it as some obscure law of art.

Segmentation Fault posted:

RE: A ticket came in: ORGASM THE INTELLIGENCE INTO MY BRAIN THROUGH A BIOCHIP CONNECTED TO MY DICK

Dick Trauma posted:

Malachite_Dragon posted:

Source of Segmentation Faults comment. It's... it's a thing.

quote:

IF THERE ARE THOSE THAT HAD CARS OR TRUCKS IN LAST YEARS SHOW, THAT WANT TO SELL THEM FOR 35% ABOVE THERE
ACTUAL VALUE, MY AGENTS NEED A VERY FAST MODE OF TRANSPORTATION. EMAIL ME PICTURES, AND IF YOUR A MODE, AN ATHLETE, AN ACADEMIC, OR JUST WANT TO KNOW WAHT THE INFRA RED SMILE EROTIC SEX PUPPET PROGRAMMING IS, EMAIL ME PICTURE WEARING A FULL BODY SINGLE ZIPPER
GARMENT AND WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE IN IT.

Soulex posted:

I am an Expeditor, and although many believe they are in charge of the flight line, I can assure you this is not so. The expeditor, the man behind the wheel, is the real king and the ruler of the flight line. Right now it is 0,Dark thirty, the flight line is quiet. Off in the distance a lone power unit happily mumbles to itself. It is that time when everything that can be done is done, yet the time for everything to startup once again is not upon us. There are no blue buses streaming across the ramp filled with crews and passengers, the cargo loaders have yet to begin their crawl across the flight line, their backs loaded down with equipment, parts, supplies and mail. The Fuel trucks are still waiting to go sloshing along with JP4 and lining up behind aircraft to begin feeding the hungry bellies of aircraft for their long flights across the oceans to far away lands.
Soon the flight line will be crawling with people, equipment, maintenance stands and expediter trucks. But for now, all is quiet, my maintenance crews are inside the hangar sitting in the break room eating their lunches, drinking coffee, playing spades or slamming bones. In the backs of their minds they all know that soon the day will start and they will have to scramble to aid the flight crews, respond to last minute maintenance problems or man stations in preparation for fueling. I alone wait at the maintenance entrance of the hangar and survey my domain. Here, at this time, this moment, this place, I am ruler. I stand with my legs slightly apart, shoulders back and head held high as I observe the dark shapes of the aircraft sitting silently upon the ramp waiting for the day to begin.
The hangar behind me is a behemoth of a building, standing eighty feet high, it is a metal, concrete and glass monster covering more that eight acres of land and capable of housing eight of the worlds largest aircraft. Inside of this building it is a small city within itself, there are roads, buildings, shops and storage facilities, capable of manufacture or supplying the parts and equipment necessary to keep the aircraft flying. So large is this building that it has its own atmosphere, able to produce clouds and even rain. When it is quiet like this, just dropping a small bolt will send echoes across the hangars mighty walls and ceilings. The sound bouncing from one hard concrete and steel structure to the next, until it finally fades away into its distance bowels.
In one hand I hold a clip board with all the missions, and the names of the crews that I have assigned to specific aircraft. On its pages there are fuel loads, and crew rosters, departure times and maintenance priorities, this is my world my domain my kingdom and these are my plans for carrying out my mission. The coffee cup in my other hand holds a brew that comes from an earn which constantly brews a black substance that at one time in the far distant past could have been recognized as coffee. However, that day has long past. Still, it is hot, and has enough caffeine to raise the dead. Let me state here for the record, I am not a big man, in my stocking feet I stand a half an inch short of five foot eight. I weigh one hundred and sixty pounds, all of which is bone muscle and sinew, one hundred percent, USAF high grade Technical Sergeant, trained, honed and tempered in the fire and ice of the flight line. While I stand in the shadows of this giant building I am but a minor presence to its greatness. The clipboard in my hand weighs heavy with responsibility. The missions are real world, the shipments to these far off lands, contain food, and medical supplies, vehicle parts, replacement vehicles and armaments to needy Army, Marines, and Air Force Airmen around the world. More importantly is the mail from loved ones, Mothers, fathers, husbands and wives, letting those men and women who defend our country know they are still loved and needed back home. My job is important, my mission is to make sure that no aircraft is delayed in its departure and that all the needs of those who so desperately wish to come home are met. So while I am king, I also know the crown that sits upon my head weighs heavily. For this reason I have worries and concerns, I understand that these aircraft are complicated, with hundreds of miles of cables, wires, and hydraulic lines. Electronic components, micro switches, computers, pressure sensors, transducers, relays, environmental systems, O2 lines, Liquid Oxygen converters, heat exchangers, air cycle machines, air diverters, dampers, hydraulic actuators, pitch trim motors. HF, UHF, VHF, Radar, Audio Directional Finders, TACAN, Inertial Navigation Systems. Auto Throttle, Auto Pilot, Horizontal Situation Indicators. Air Speed Indicators, N2 and N2 RPM indicators. Exhaust Gas Tempters indicators, Engine Pressure Indicators and a list of a hundred other things that can and will go wrong. And it is I that will have to respond to each and every one of these emergencies in a timely and orderly fashion. It is I, that will have to assign the repair crews that will resolve these problems, making sure that each and every aircraft departs on time. In a few hours I will be ordering parts, answering radios, assigning task, and directing fuel crews, repair teams, and delivering parts, test equipment and technical data to the places where they are needed. I will be answering a thousand questions, and asking as many back. There will be, Estimated Time of Completion ETIC, ASAP, Blue Flame, Red Streak, Maintenance Priority, work unit codes, Technical Orders (TO) Line Items, Ramp Loads, Fuel Loads, Rhino Jacks, Shrader valves, High Packs, Low Packs, Nut Plates, Static Eliminators. B-1 stands, B-4 Stands, Chocks, Gear pins, head sets, marshalling paddles, safety vest, wing walkers, Launch Crews, Recovery Crews, -------------- Ahhh!!!!!!!!!!.
But I am King, this is but another day, one among many, and I will prevail, I know this because I have prevailed and I will do so again. But for this time between what has happened and what will happen I can for a moment stand and survey all that is around me with a kind of tranquility and peace. It is the twilight of a new day and all is quiet. I am King.
Have you ever had to pass gas, really bad? Dumb question, everyone at one time or other has had too. It is a natural event, one of Gods little jokes. His way of letting you know, no matter how great you think you are, or how serious the situation is, you are still human. The flight line is dark and quiet I look around and there is no one close by. I am alone and safe in the assumption that no one will be present to witness my release. So, with this in mind I let one rip and it was a good one! A real thunder bumper!
There are two things wrong with this. First I am standing in front of one the worlds largest echo chambers where the smallest pin drop becomes a thunderous avalanche of sound. Second, while I checked all around to make sure that no one was present I did not check behind me. Too late---- Brrrrrrap, brrrrrap, brrrap, brrap, brap, the sounds goes bouncing of the walls of the hangar across the great expanse of this monstrous cavern. Only to return, Brap, Brrap, Brrrrap, BRRAP! I turn around and see Clarence, my number one, my second in command, the go to guy, the man who if I die will take charge and handle things. He is slightly taller than me, heavier in build and as black in color as I am white. At the moment he is in total shock, his eyes are as round as saucers and I can see the whites all around his dark almost black irises. People are beginning to come out of their offices and break rooms, they are looking around in confusion and dismay trying to determine what the loud and unusual sound was and where it came from. Then Clarence bust up laughing, he has a deep voice, rich and powerful. And his voice carries to the rafters and across the great expanse of the hangar. When he stops laughing he finally looks at the people standing around with questions written on their faces and says, “Okay people! Load up, it’s time to go to work.” Then he looks a me and says, “The King has Spoken

Leperflesh posted:

Alright well I guess if we're doubling up on numbers I'll go with 13. If we're not, then nevermind because all the plausible numbers are taken.


Have you heard of the Titanic? You know how the ship has become the most well-known standard for human hubris? Like, you just have to say "the Titanic" and everyone who you say it to understands immediately that you're referring to a historic disaster that was completely avoidable and that happened because of supreme overconfidence collided with incompetence, and the whole affair was salted with a hefty dose of lingering Victorian-values class injustice, what with the rich people getting lifeboats and the poor people getting to drown?

Well, Everest is like if, after the Titanic disaster, thousands of people just kept on making more Titanics and blithely sailing them into a bunch of iceburgs, over and over and over, never adding lifeboats, never changing the design, never learning from the experience, and meanwhile most of their families and friends and co-workers and the media just praised them for their bravery and perseverance and ignored the enormous waste of money, resources, the litter of sunk Titanics accumulating in the north Atlantic, made movies about it, and the governing body, I dunno let's pretend it's NATO, kept charging an exhorbitant fee for Titanic sailing permits because the impoverished people of Greenland need that money pretty badly due to the ongoing injustice of enormous disparities of resources between the rich and poor countries of the world.

And in this extended analogy, the people posting in this threads are the ones standing around at the docs going "hey you stupid fuckers, stop building Titanics, no you idiots don't get on that boat! It's gonna crash into an iceburg maybe, you might die, there's not enough lifeboats!" But people just won't listen, and eventually the crowds just settle down and start making bets on which Titanics are gonna crash and sink and hoping that it's mostly the rich idiots paying for passage that die and not the poor cockney-speaking ignorant bastards manning the engine rooms because the pay from one round trip voyage will feed their extended families for a year.

And you, Faux-rear end Nonsense, are I guess just wandering up to the docks and seeing the jeering crowds and shaking your head in disgust at us, because I guess you're just completely missing the context and thinking that we're the ones with the problem, what with the death pools and the schadenfraude etc.

But no man, it's not us, we're just posting on a forum. Kindly reserve your disdain for the profitable, established industry of "tour guide" companies who take rich people's money in exchange for hoisting them up a deathtrap mountain in order that they can experience a few days of oxygen-deprived delierium and tedious walking through snow at night strapped to a safety line while two or three locals whose economic situation is so dire that $20 a day is worth maybe dying for. Direct your scorn, goon sir, at the conga-line of starry-eyed Westerners who have convinced themselves that walking to the top of this mountain, for $60k to $100k, will add meaning to their lives, give them a sense of accomplishment they can achieve in no other way, earn them the accolades and admiration of their families and peers, and present them with a worthy challenge, none of which they can achieve in their otherwise apparently meaningless lives by doing much less stupid and normal things.

Marvel at the incredible lack of imagination it must take, to come to the conclusion that standing at the top of a big hunk of rock is worth a ~10% chance of death and a small fortune, when instead they could dedicate their efforts and financial resources to accomplishing something perhaps less immediately spectacular to the casual observer, but in the long run far more worthwhile to all of humanity: like, say, joining a NGO and traveling to an impoverished third world country as a volunteer to help build clean sustainable water supplies, or going to school, getting some medical training, and joining Doctors Without Borders to travel to a war zone and save the lives of kids who got their limbs blown off by land mines. You know, the sort of personal challenge that takes years of training and dedication, selflessness, and raw human grit to face, the kind of achievement truly worthy of respect and admiration, an undertaking involving some degree of personal danger, a facing of internal demons, genuine human bravery.

Redirect your sneer, please, for the people who actually deserve it, for needlessly wasting their lives and resources on a completely pointless and meaningless journey that directly endangers not only their own lives, but the lives of the people who they must hire to enable them to accomplish something that, if they actually tried to do on their own, would require decades of accumulated experience that they're simply not willing to go to the trouble of acquiring. Why, after all, should they obtain actual mountain-climbing skills, when they can just pay some very poor foreigners to do all the heavy lifting for them?

Check yourself, oh goon. It is you, and not we, who appears the fool now.

TetsuoTW posted:

The Everest thread is brimming with the kind of person I never want to encounter in bars, airports, or life.

TetsuoTW posted:

The Everest thread is brimming with the kind of person I never want to encounter in bars, airports, or life.

Tetracube posted:

otherwise known as a GBS poster?

Aralan posted:

Going by the OP's posts earlier I'd assume his abusive boyfriend convinced him to agree to getting hit when it's for his own good, and now that he's agreed to it it isn't abuse anymore.

Also it's really sad that the only advice the OP has taken from this thread so far is to watch anime

TetsuoTW posted:

The Everest thread is brimming with the kind of person I never want to encounter in bars, airports, or life.

Sleeveless posted:

I wonder if they have the self-awareness

Sleeveless posted:

to realize how incredibly gross and weird their fixation is

Sleeveless posted:

and hide their shame

burexas.irom posted:

Man is my finger not on the pulse of this forum. Poison womb is funny, but rich people committing suicide by ego is somehow not?

I'm getting old.

Teach posted:

Latest issue of Viz is a bit loving bleak. Sorry if it's been posted. Sorry for the big image. Sorry for the nihilism.

HBomb posted:

Are the frames in the right order? This makes no goddamn sense.

Lets Pickle posted:

A guy throws a puppy in a sack into the river. Another guy is waiting for this to happen, dives in after it, gets it, sees it's a boy, and throws it back. A third guy throws another puppy in a sack into the river. The guy who went after and threw back the first puppy rescues the second one, sees its a girl, and brings it home to gently caress. It bites his dick so he breaks up with her by throwing throws her back into the river.

dumb. posted:

Are those words in the right order? This makes no goddamn sense.

Count Uvula posted:

A A Another a a a a a after after and and and another back back back. bites boy, breaks brings by dick dives first for gently caress. gets girl guy guy guy guy happen, he her her his home in in in into into into is it it it it's it, it, its one, puppy puppy puppy rescues river. river. river., sack sack second sees sees so the the the the the the third this threw throwing throws throws throws throws to to up waiting went who with