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Stoner Sloth


Goons Are Great posted:

I wanted to rename this thread to Bee Y O Bee twice already and now I'm not on a computer, SS can you do the needful?

I feel like we should have so many bee puns itt

done! let this thread name change cause such a buzz that it pollinates a thousand flowers of bee puns to bloom!



sigs by the awesome Manifisto, Vanisher, City of Glompton, and Pot Smoke Phoenix - ty friends!

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nut


Apus mellifera

Each sun, we rise before bright. Shaking abdomens to loosen our body and generate the small warmth between us, encapsulating home in a weak bright of its own.

While we construct new combs and clean out those old, we take flight. Each bright, we must fly again and again into the great invisible wall around our home if we are to stimulate the giants to come and free us. Finally, the white giants come, effortlessly removing the barrier as they lean in close to watch our movements. Behind this barrier, we are always faced with four great hallways. Sterile, white walls dividing the sky into pathways, each diverging somewhere ahead out of our sight. We scout each at the same time. This bright, we found our prize in the second pathway. At the end of this path lay the artificial clustering of ten hard, shrunken flowers, abnormally formed and filled with a thick sweet and strangely arranged clusters of pollen. Whereas we know these flavours are not normal, we also find that all other paths lead to pools of water, devoid of both sweet and pollen. The paths change every bright, we assume beneath the control of the white giants, for they shrill with excitement at our correct discovery every time.

We return home and dance. We waggle our form amongst all of us, each shake adjusting our heading until we’ve directed us to the second path. Now, reinforced, we together fly, loading ourselves with sweet and pollen to bring home. From our first great trip home, the heat encapsulating our home intensifies, a warmth fed by sweet and pollen that will only wane between our last trip of the day, when the great invisible barrier is returned around us, and our rise the next bright.

---

Each sun, we rise before bright. Shaking abdomens to loosen our body and generate the small warmth between us, encapsulating home in a weak bright of its own.

While we construct new combs and clean out those old, we take flight. Each bright, we must fly again and again into the great invisible wall around our home if we are to stimulate the giants to come and free us. Finally, the white giants come, effortlessly removing the barrier as they lean in close to watch our movements. Behind this barrier, there is but one space. We pause.

Within a single open void, encased in sterile white, lay sparsely arranged artificial flowers. We approach each flower, ever eager to discover the day’s sweet and pollen. Upon landing on the hard rim of the artificial flower, a thud explodes from the sun down to us, the shakes of which dislodge us from our perch. We land awkwardly on the ground, panicking to right ourselves. Back on our feet, we find the walls have moved in close, clean white encompassing all we see, the other flowers beyond now hidden. We return up the flower quickly in hopes of spying us from up high, but instead the whole world suddenly shifts. We cling to the flower’s woody stem, unrealistically stiff and rife with splintered edges. Looking upward to the sun, we are face-to-face with a white giant spying in. And then, the skies close, shuttered by a dark disc before all bright is gone. The giants mumble somewhere beyond the dark as a gentle hiss pours down from the ceiling. We laugh to ourselves, “judging by their flowers, this hiss is probably what the giants think wind sounds like”. Our laughter is broken up between sudden attacks of tiredness. Though there is much left to do this bright, we rest instead.

---

Each sun, we rise before bright. Shaking abdomens to loosen our body and generate the small warmth between us, encapsulating home in a weak bright of its own.

We notice the change immediately. Pasted to our backs are small, coloured discs, each adorned with a large glyph of black. The first we see is a bright yellow disc between the wings, as if we have travelled the great hallways only to return with the sun itself. The disc reads:

13B

The symbols spark nothing within us but we feel the droplet of hardened plastic weigh heavily between our wings. We shake ourselves to wake, in hopes of ejecting the building worry in our thoughts, but immediately notice another bright sun on our back passing by, labelled:

7F

We shake harder, but we have risen. The panic digs deeper. We are able to view 13B and 7F side-by-side, and stepping back shows these symbols are merely islands floating among a sea of suns reading 4A, 7C, 15D, 18H. We struggle to reconcile how our simple pair of wings can shoulder each of these different glyphs simultaneously. The thought of which decoration lay between the two wings immediately behind us shook something loose in our head, as if a pile of useless muscle that cannot beat our wings or grab our pollen or eat our nectar, suddenly found its own hardened, plastic flower to drink from.

I looked around and noticed a greater pattern beyond the varied markings of suns mounted on each of our backs. As they emerged from home, I noticed others with bright red discs on their back, as if each had managed to shrink and carry back the entire flowers we sought daily. For a moment, I thought about how little sweet these tiny flowers would hold.

But I knew these others could never have retrieved the flowers awaiting us beyond the hallways. These red discs were exclusively found on others destined to stay home and clean out old cells of death and debris. Though some of their glyphs appeared to match those scrawled on our yellow discs, the red beneath overpowered these feeble similarities to mark those unable to fly, unable to find the day’s source of sweet, and unable to bring this most important resource home. I felt bad for the red discs, for they would not know the joy of flight nor hear the trill of the white giants when the correct hallway was travelled.

The white giants returned as they did every sun, meaning the barrier was soon to be lifted. A handful of us baring yellow discs took flight. I tried to take off subtly, as to not leave those red discs of the home below jealous of my freedom to leave it.

After only a few bumbles against the great barrier, it was lifted and we were faced with the four great hallways ahead. I took some comfort from the familiarity of our daily foraging route before noticing that not all yellow discs had made the flight. I supposed some were unable to grasp the importance of the markers stuck to our backs. Perhaps some even thought they held red discs now and should remain home to tend.

I noticed something else new. We did not explore all four hallways together. Instead, individuals would explore each possible route independently and, while I was in the first hallway, I questioned whether or not I could know what was in the other three.

Eager to test my new thoughts, I watched fellow scouts enter the first, second, and fourth hallways. Our reduced fleet left just myself to explore the third. I flew forward, turning the few corners that terminated with the small island of modelling clay holding an array of plastic, malformed flowers. I landed gingerly on the edge of the nearest flower to confirm the presence of sweet and pollen.

Then, I thought about what must be down the remaining hallways. I found myself presuming simple pools of water, though I did not know. Perhaps, this sun a second batch of flowers had sprouted from the featureless white floor lining the bottom of another pool. The thought was exhilarating. I was right in my hypothesis that the search is known only to the seeker. Sitting on the edge of the day’s food, I perked up and assumed the glyph on my back must signify something better than 13A of 7F. Perhaps the disc was an even brighter yellow, perhaps even a bright white, like the constructions of our world so cherished by the giants above. I gathered a sample of nectar and pollen and flew home to report my discovery. My thoughts were filled with scenes of the others, climbing atop one another to balance on red discs, desperate to memorize the glyph on my back in order to recognize my greatness the next bright.

Rounding the first turn towards home, a darker thought pierced me between my eyes. Once I had danced out my directions at home, all yellow discs would know where to fly to gather sweet. A humble glance down at my legs led me to recall daily life around home. Had I seen pairs of legs greater than mine? Longer? Broader? Perhaps those legs could hold more pollen, those guts more nectar, bringing a greater bounty upon each trip home. What if the waiting red discs were more impressed with the capacity to bring sweet home than the initial discovery of it? Could I fly idly by knowing their appreciation was being misplaced?

By the time I reached home, the decision felt obvious. Floating amid the sea of yellow discs, tiny suns orbiting my every movement, I danced. I quickly passed through indications for the first hallway, no, second, no, third. I paused only momentarily before shaking my abdomen twice more, instructions to travel the fourth hallway. Yellow discs immediately began flying off, catching rides on the back of obedient foragers. I thought of the swarm all funneling themselves into the fourth hallway, searching an empty room all bright, unable to find the promise of sweet and pollen. I imagined the waning bright casting sun on their tiring bodies as they fell one by one into the pool below. At least there would be no question as to who helps the most.

biosterous




whoa. that was really good!



thank you manifisto for this sig!!!

nut


biosterous posted:

whoa. that was really good!

thanks! it was fun to actually write something after telling myself i would for most of lockdown

Goons Are Great

Please drink responsibly


Woah I got seriously invested in this


Heather Papps


hello internet friend




nut that was beautiful. a few years ago i did a weird radio interview with a goon about bees symbolic language and one of the questions he asked was if there was deception, and it really kind of shook me.

we humans live our walled off lives as singular entities. we do want to get one over on the other person, to survive and thrive at the expense of others. it's in our bones. we look at the hive and wonder what it would like to be but one bee, and mourn the queens we kill, but the hive is so utterly alien to our existence it's impossible to really grasp.

also this reads like the bee's original sin. wanna read the 1000 year in the future of these beeeeeeees


thanks everyone for posting, but six and vanisher especially!!!

nut


aw thanks a lot everybody. i used to be friends w people who studied bee behaviour and i thought it was so hilarious, if you study cognition, there is tremendous benefit to showing your animal has "human" thinking. it's an amazing perversion of evolution to act like we figured out the best way to do it. Alas, if you can say you study the evolution of human cognition you get the cheddah from what i could tell

alnilam

Postin in the springtime



yeah hive thinking is so alien to us that macro-sized hive species make for really good and interesting scifi entities, like the borg (if you take out the forcible assimilation part of it), or the zerg



ty vanisher

Goons Are Great

Please drink responsibly


The desire to research this stuff that is practically magic is why I got to do what I do

Bees are magic. Also ants and termites and everything eusocial


Finger Prince

"I think he's watching us..."

"No, it's just the Mountain Peeks."
(Source)


There was a singular bee hive on the roof of the building across the street from me. It was there for probably a month or so, but the other day it disappeared. I know there's some urban beekeeping that goes on around the city but do they rotate the hives to different locations on the regular? Must confuse the bees.

Nosfereefer


ants are also cool in my book. whenever i have an ant colony nearby i try to block their access to the house with salt and stuff and instead offer them sugary gifts for peace

Nosfereefer


we should always seek peace with the hives. and perhaps even learn and adapt to their ways

The Voice of Labor


I had to help a honeybee get its foot off some duct tape adhesive. dude took off while I was whipping him up a little cup of sugar water so I guess he was no worse for wear. still only like the second honeybee I've seen this year

Heather Papps


hello internet friend




The Voice of Labor posted:

I had to help a honeybee get its foot off some duct tape adhesive. dude took off while I was whipping him up a little cup of sugar water so I guess he was no worse for wear. still only like the second honeybee I've seen this year

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ajd3PL-rNM

a super cute thing is if a bee gets stuck in propolis because the temp changes drastically other bees will slowly chew them free. it's very sweet to watch.


thanks everyone for posting, but six and vanisher especially!!!

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Stoner Sloth


The Voice of Labor posted:

I had to help a honeybee get its foot off some duct tape adhesive. dude took off while I was whipping him up a little cup of sugar water so I guess he was no worse for wear. still only like the second honeybee I've seen this year

this is good, the hive will remember your actions and you have made a powerful friend(s) this day!

i gave a bee that landed on my balcony a little bit of sugar water, let her lick it off my finger while she was perched on my other hand cause i was showing my house mate that bees are good and not our enemy since he recoils from them if they get within 10 feet thinking their going to sting him.

in conclusions bees are good and gentle friends <3



sigs by the awesome Manifisto, Vanisher, City of Glompton, and Pot Smoke Phoenix - ty friends!

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