ok ive actually been wanting to ask this for a while; can getting stabbed in the stomach/abdomen really cause blood to come out of the mouth or is that just a dumb trope for The Drama?
Yes, but also, yes.
There are a lot of injuries that can result in blood in your respiratory system. The most obvious would be puncturing a lung, or bruising a lung (called a pulmonary contusion.) Also, bleeding from the sinuses that gets into the throat can result in coughing up blood (though this one is pretty benign.) As a general rule, you do not want fluid in your lungs at all, and fluid that is prone to coagulating, blocking your lungs' ability to absorb oxygen is a very bad thing.
And it gets worse, for your body to effectively expel a large glob of blood, the way you usually see in films, you would need a lot of blood in your lungs. On their own, even relatively minor pulmonary contusions have a pretty significant mortality rate. What this means is, if you're ever coughing up blood, there's about a 30% chance you're going to die.
Also as a quick aside, particularly violent coughing can result in some minor spotting from broken blood vessels. It's not inherently life threatening, but it is something that should be checked out quickly, because it can be a symptom of something worse. (Such as lung cancer.)
The way these injuries tend to get inflicted is a mixed bag. When someone's been getting beaten (particularly in the upper torso), they've been in an explosion, or a car accident, then it's not that unreasonable for them to be coughing up blood. A pulmonary contusion is a pretty plausible injury in those circumstances. And again, that pulmonary contusion could easily end up being the fatal injury.
When a character has been shot or stabbed in the stomach, then it's less plausible. There's a bit of a distinction here, because if you have serious hemorrhaging from internal injuries and that gets into your stomach, it's quite possible you'd vomit blood. You don't see this very often in film, coughing is far more popular, and in a lot of cases, you'll see characters coughing up blood when they should be vomiting. As with pulmonary contusions, this is not a symptom to screw around with, if someone's vomiting blood, they're at very serious risk of dying, and need immediate medical care.
So, is it just used for drama? Yeah. It is. Stage coughing is pretty easy for an actor, and a little bit of slight of hand with a blood pack can let them get a nice death scene in. It's not about the realism of the injury, and in most cases, aside from coughing up blood, they're not exhibiting any of the other associated symptoms (including the ones that are more common.) When someone's coughing up blood like this, they're also suffocating, because their lung can't absorb oxygen out of the air. As a result, they'll frequently start hyperventilating. Which, you'll never see in one of these scenes. The actor will lay there, deliver their lines, feign pain, and then spit up a red dye pack and relax. Which, that's not how this injury works at all.
So, yes, it is a real injury, but also, yes, this is something that is used for dramatic effect and not out of any interest in realism.
-Starke
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this is a massive trove of knowledge! And hopefully more institutions will follow suit.
Welcome to the space age, ladies and gentlemen
Yo @godhatesverizon, I was your @pnatsecretsanta this year! You said you liked some good ol’ fashioned Jang and some snow, and who doesn’t love some seasonally appropriate shenanigans from the Mayview bullies? Apologies that this is so late, but I hope you enjoy the lunacy these goofballs get up to!
For all its quirks and oddities, one would expect the weather itself to be one of the last things to distinguish a town such as Mayview from its neighboring areas. This would, of course, be incorrect for freak hurricane-related reasons, but also for the small fact that in its geographical niche, the temperature can jump from pleasantly middling weather to negative five degrees in the span of half a night. So it was that when the people of Mayview awoke from their slumber that they were greeted with so much snow it buried their feet, when mere days before it was only cool enough to warrant a jacket.
The whoops and hollers of children and children-at-heart alike echoed in RJ’s ears as they set off for Johnny’s place, bundled in their warmest snowflake-patterned hoodie and steel blue gloves. The rest of their friends greeted them with a wave as they approached his house, and the group pulled into a huddle to discuss the day’s proceedings. “So what’s the plan for dealin’ with the mutant nerds today?” Stephen asked as the group turned their eyes to their crimson haired leader.
Johnny took a deep breath.
“Nothin’.” “WHAT?!” Ollie and Stephen cried in unison.
“We’ve been goin’ over this for too long and we’re clearly gettin’ a little burned out. I had ta force ya to sleep yesterday, Stephen, and the rest of us weren’t much better. So this is gonna be our day off. No thinkin’ about weirdo flyin’ people, or shootin’ lightning, or purple gunk. It’s just gonna be us an’ the snow. Tomorra’ we’ll look over everythin’ with fresh faces an’ we’ll get all the info we need outta the nerds. Today…” He threw his arms out, inviting the rest to take in the white wonderment surrounding them.
“Today we make the biggest ball of death this town has ever seen!” If the fire in the group’s eyes could leave their ocular prisons, there would be no snow left.
“YEAH!” Stephen whooped. “We setting it loose on Wicker Road again?” “Can we please not push the whole thing uphill like last year?” Ollie said through his smile, knowing his plea would be futile.
Purple gunk? came the message from RJ’s phone. Their leader’s eyes flicked to it for a second, before sliding to the side, as if unsure. Within an instant the phone was put away and the message forgotten, his wide grin returning and the flare in his eyes reigniting.
“Trust me, it’s gonna be the biggest and best ball we’ve done yet! NOW LET’S GET TO IT!” “YEAH!!” the others shouted, and the four took off to mold doom from the innocent fluff.
---
After ten minutes, the Jang regrouped to see the fruits of their labor and to pick a starting ball. Stephen’s ball, barely bigger than the palm of his hand, was the smallest of the lot. He attributed this to thinking he had found Mothman prints, but closer inspection had just revealed them to be raccoon tracks. Johnny tried to move his ball a little more and groaned when it fell apart in his hands. Ollie’s was bigger than the rest, but rebelled against its circular bretheren by taking the shape of a football. RJ’s ball was the roundest of the four, if a little on the smaller side. The group set RJ’s ball off to the side, and held somber eulogies for the other failed balls.
The subsequent pummeling back into the powder they were born from was markedly less somber.
The beginnings of the Deadly Doom Ball of Ultimate Destruction (named by Stephen) were humble, as the small orb graciously munched the snow laying neatly behind Johnny’s house. Its appetite grew with its size; by the time it devoured the last white flakes daring to exist in Johnny’s backyard, it reached RJ’s torso. The desecration of snow spread as the ball, now guided by two pairs of hands, absorbed the fallen flakes lying beside the sidewalk, making its way up the street.
“So,” Ollie said, turning to stare at Johnny, who was eyeing the path ahead for obstacles, “we taking it to the Usual Spot, or somewhere new?” “Can we not do the steepest hill again? That was so disappointing,” Stephen said, remembering how the previous year’s ball went only a few feet before cracking in half.
“Yeah, pushing that thing up there was a nightmare,” Ollie added, reminiscing on the four of them desperately digging into the snow with their backs to the ball, taking victory in inches.
“Nah, we’re gonna go partways up t’ the school and run it down the road!” Johnny cried out.
“Ngh..I really hope it doesn’t break this time,” Stephen huffed.
The four continued up the street, the ball greedily adding to its mass as they huffed and chatted about things such as potential fort designs and seeing how many snowballs they could throw into Jeff’s hair.
---
As the Corner Store came into view, a sniffle caught Johnny’s attention, and he turned to examine his pals. With his red nose and cheeks, Ollie looked like he had just walked out of a Christmas card, his face as puffy as his jacket. Stephen wasn’t much better, trying to hide his shuddering beneath his grape scarf and Jersey Devil jersey, and RJ kept rubbing their face with their sleeve. The small sneeze from RJ cinched it. “A’right, detour time. We get this ball to the store and then we get ourselves some goodies. Stephen, you still got that ten dollar bill in your pocket?” “Yep.” “Cool. You three go in and get yerselves some’n warm, an’ I’ll guard the ball.” The bully bunch made it to the edge of the store’s door in due time. Stephen, Ollie, and RJ dashed into the store, eager for something warm to slide down their gullets.
“Ho ho, little elves!” cried the wiry shopkeeper as he slid onto the countertop, decked in green and jingling bells. “What can I do you for, on your fine detour from Santa’s Shop?”
“Got anything warm?” Ollie asked as he tried and marginally succeeded at preventing Stephen from ransacking the isles.
The spark in the man’s eyes immediately threw this decision into question. As the green elf declared that he had just the thing and dashed up the stairs, the boy wondered what he just got them all into.
He barely had time to ponder calling for Johnny when the man returned, arms full of small packets, the lid of a small pan, and a coffee pot filled with piping hot...water? Before Ollie could say anything, the man had already ripped the small packets into pieces with his teeth, scattering the dust-colored powder into the pot. He then leapt onto the counter with a flourish, slammed the pan lid onto the pot with a clank!, and began to twirl. The pot quickly frothed with a chocolate swirl as he spun and spun, giggling manically all the while.
Ollie couldn’t figure out when the snowman-adored styrofoam cups had manifested onto the counter, or when exactly the other two had joined him, and at this point he was almost afraid to question it.
The three stared in a mix of bewilderment and awe as the shopkeeper slid backwards, filling each cup to the brim with small dips and pivots. He then threw himself backwards, his face underneath Ollie’s chin. “That’s three for five dollars, or four for seven,” he said without skipping a beat.
“Four, please,” Ollie said, at a loss for anything else to say.
Money changed hands, another batch was poured for Johnny, conversations about agents of Krampus were held, and the three turned to head out the door with the warmth in their gut once again matching the fire in their hearts. Their eyes caught glimpse of the new kid, his jaw set tight and his face as red as theirs were upon entering, although perhaps for different reasons.
Their gazes met. Seconds went by as the group and the nerd stared each other down, Max’s bewilderment fading back into his usual snarky look as he entertained their glares.
Wordlessly, the three turned and headed out the door, finding their fourth member with his back to them, staring at their not-so-little orb of doom.
“Yo bro, you’re not gonna believe what just happened in there!” Stephen called out to Johnny. The bully swirled around, and for a second the three glimpsed his mouth hanging askew, eyes wide with pinpoint pupils, face a touch paler than when they went in. Then his gaze darted from their faces to the cups in their hands, and he relaxed, his hand reaching for his share. With flailing arms and just a tad exaggeration, Stephen shared the details of the shopkeeper as the rest sipped their cocoa.
“And as we left, we fell upon the mutant new kid! I think that store guy did some kinda psychic damage to him ‘cuz he looked totally freaked out.” As if on cue, Max groan from inside the store fell upon their ears.
“We let him off though, ‘cuz of the pact.” “Mmm.” “Then he talked to Stephen for like ten minutes about Krampus and Santa’s secret ninja squad. Had to practically pry him out of the store,” Ollie added.
RJ pulled out their phone and showed them the image they got of the clerk, caught in a perfect backslide, the delicious liquid forever frozen halfway into its destination. The group oohed and aahed at their friend’s impeccable ability to take super clear shots with a little flip phone camera.
With a few more gulps of their cocoa and a desire to finish the rest on the way up, the bullies repositioned themselves and resumed their slow ascent to the top of the hill. RJ spared a glance at Johnny, who was staring daggers at the ball.
Johnny, in the meantime, put all of his focus on the conversations of his friends and on making sure the ball didn’t go off course.
He was not gonna mention the weird hissing that started when they got near that store.
He wasn’t gonna mention the purple thing that had taken an interest in the ball.
He wasn’t gonna think about how the purple thing had a human face and a child’s voice.
He definitely wasn’t gonna think about how all of that just disappeared right as the purple thing looked at him, as if it was never there, right in front of him.
He had made a pact with his buds and he was gonna keep it.
No weird mutant stuff today.
---
Pushing an ever-growing snowball up one of Mayview’s hills with only one hand quickly proved more difficult than expected. Ollie found it easier to lean into the mound with his shoulders providing leverage. RJ and Stephen followed suit, guzzling down the last of their now nearly lukewarm beverage and jamming the empty cups into their jacket pockets. Johnny, having chugged down his cocoa at the urging of his friends, merely rammed his entire frame into the ball. The slow rate of movement up the hill was matched by its growth, though by this point it had begun to dwarf its creators. By the time Johnny mentioned that he could see the school, it had overgrown Ollie by half a foot. Muscles strained and groans and grunts abounded as their fight against gravity reached its zenith. With one last shout from the children, the damned, doomed sphere nestled itself peacefully on the level footing of the school pavement.
The Jang locked eyes on each other, whooped, raised their fists triumphantly in the air, and promptly leaned on each other for support. As breath was sucked down their lungs and muscles left to rest for the first time in hours, the bullies gazed at their creation.
“She’s beautiful, guys.” Stephen said.
“She’s bigger than last years for sure,” Johnny beamed.
“...I don’t think what we just did is reasonably possible.” Ollie said, “and I don’t care.” “YEAH, physics is for WIMPS and NERDS and she doesn’t even have any lunch money!” “Physics is why pushing this thing back down is satisfying at all, Stephen.” “OI!” Johnny called out. “Getchur butts round Deathknell Mk. II! RJ wants a pic!” “Aww, that wasn’t what I called it earlier!” Stephen called out as he ran into position. So it was that a snapshot became immortalized (using Ollie’s phone, as it had a wider screen and a timer) of the four youths, burning cheeks accentuating beaming grins around their carefully cultivated sphere of chaos, Ollie’s one hand slung as high up on the ball as it could go. This was soon followed by pictures of each of them perched atop the ball mid-manic cackle, of Stephen splayed across the top frozen in triumphant shouting, of the group split into stacked pairs on both sides miming a struggle, and many more.
At last, after each photo was evaluated and deemed acceptable, the moment arrived. With more grunts and heaves, Deathknell Mk. II took position in the center of the road, adopting bits of gravel as it went.
“THREE!” came the cry as the ball inched forward.
“TWO!” came the shouts as the slope drew nearer.
“ONE!” came the call as the ball perched on the last few bits of level ground its front end had.
“GOOOOO!!!” With one last running shove and a cry, the obliteration orb teetered..
and tilted…
and slowly slid forward.
As momentum took hold, all caution was thrown to the wind as the deadly orb rocketed down the slope. Trees and buildings flew by as it claimed the hill as its own, tiny smushed white packets on the pavement the only sign it was there. The boys and RJ, with cold-kissed hands desperately clutching onto hoods and hats in the wake of the creation’s tailwind, could scarcely hope to keep up with its joyride as it spun down the hill with the pitter-patter of an army of spiders. It whizzed past the Corner Store in seconds, blew the soft covering of snow off the nearby oak and elm branches, turned slightly to the side as it neared the lower residential areas and chose what would be the bearer of its wrath.
A godawful scrunching brought the ball to a stop, and as the Jang neared it, their jaws fell open and their whoops died in their throat as they drank in the scene.
There at the curbside sat a jet-black SUV, toppled onto its side, buried on all fronts by piles of stone-colored, gravel-filled, leaf accented snow. Its side could hardly be called that now, crumpled and twisted into a metallic sinkhole and probably what Ms. Baxter would call “concave”; one would think an elephant had T-boned it. The lamppost behind it lurched forward with a broken spine, its light shining over the body in fits and spurts over the fresh body, as close to wincing as it could get. A wheel, badly misshapen and hissing something awful, fell into the mound with a plunk.
“I-is that…” Ollie started. “Principal Pleezdo’s car!” Stephen cried in shock, his mittens at the sides of his head.
The house beside them began to wail, a spine-tingling siren that wouldn’t be half-bad as an air raid warning.
“RUN!!!” Johnny screamed, and the bullies hurriedly scrambled as fast as their legs would carry them away from the crime scene, through slush and streets and powdered panic, eager to relive their revelry in the safety of Stephen’s living room.
(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).
Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.
I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.
Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).
What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.
To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:
The Devil Wears Prada
Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who is incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends ever waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.
The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.
In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.
Why?
Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.
Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.
In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.
Kung Fu Panda 2
Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.
Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.
Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.
Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.
The Hunger Games
We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces, but with his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.
President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.
Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.
Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.
In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down the new threat of President Coin.
Yep. Playing Idea Tennis with them is fun and I am grateful that they’re here in my life.
(X)
A big find for crocodile finds was revealed two days ago. Turnersuchus hingleyae (Hingley's and Turner's crocodile) is the oldest known and basalmost thalattosuchian described so far and is of great importance to slowly figuring out where thalattosuchians come from.
But lets start with a brief introduction to thalattosuchians. As the name already suggests, thalattosuchians are primarily known to have been marine animals (tho exceptions are known). thalattosuchians can broadly be split into two groups. The teleosauroids, which look somewhat similar to what one might call a normal crocodile, and the metriorhynchoids, which especially in the derived members could aptly be described as crocodile mermaids. Below an example of each, on the left Macrospondylus by Nikolay Zverkov and on the right a generalized metriorhynchid by Gabriel Ugueto.
Thalattosuchians such as these two groups, which are sister clades and not successive lineages (so they co-occured rather than one having evolved from the other), were incredibly successful during the Jurassic, evolving enormous forms such as Plesiosuchus, Dakosaurus and Machimosaurus. Their wild success held on throughout the Jurassic until they eventually went extinct in the early Cretaceous. But despite how common and whidespread they are, we don't actually have much of a clue where they come from. Thalattosuchians just kinda appear during the Toarcian and are already found across multiple continents with both groups established. To complicate matters, their position among crocodiles is also rather shaky. Three main hypothesis exist. One is that they are a sister group to crocodyliforms (Protosuchians, Notosuchians and Neosuchians), that they are basal mesoeucrocodylians or that they are Neosuchians related to Pholidosaurids (like Sarcosuchus) and Dyrosaurs.
This is where Turnersuchus comes in. Discovered in the Charmouth Mudstone Formation of Dorset, England, this genus is known from the skeletal material belonging to the back of the head, mandible, parts of the forearms and shoulder girdle as well as neck, body and tail vertebrae all preserved in five blocks and a few isolated pieces of bone. From that we can already see general similarities to derived thalattosuchians and basic traits like narrow jaws and reduced forelimbs (tho not nearly as extreme as in metriorhynchids).
The first significant part about this discovery is its age. Turnersuchus is from the Pliensbachian stage of the Jurassic, so it predates any previously diagnostic thalattosuchians. Secondly is its position. As I said above, thalattosuchians are divided into teleosauroids and metriorhynchoids. But Turnersuchus is neither, with both phylogenetic analysis finding it to fall outside of these groups. Now in fairness this is not rock solid, as there is only a single trait excluding it from the derived groups in either analysis, so future works might shake things up. But as things are right now, it's the oldest named and basalmost member of the entire clade. On a sidenote at least the oldest part is bound to change, as the paper mentions a Moroccon teleosauroid currently in press that is even older.
All of this allows for two things. For one, by comparing Turnersuchus with the basal members of both teleosauroids and metriorhynchoids scientists were able to gather a list of traits that appear to be ancestral to the group. In addition, Turnersuchus also preserves some features that separate it from all other thalattosuchians that are also indicative of being an early member. Just as one example a specific part of the basioccipital thats associated with long skulls is poorly developed, which means that while slender the jaws weren't as long as in some later thalattosuchians. A Bayesian analysis was also conducted in an attempt to nail down when thalattosuchians evolved. Now depending on which phylogeny is used (one with thalattosuchians as non-crocodyliforms and another with them as mesoeucrocodylians) you get different times. The former would place their origin in the Norian stage of the Triassic, the later in the Sinemurian stage of the Jurassic. In light of the Moroccon material alluded to by the paper, it would appear that they likely split from other crocodylomorphs sometime in the late Triassic.
And finally to wrap this up let me share the press release artwork to finally give a face to all this information. Now if you've read my post about fossil crocs of 2022 you might already recognize the artist, as she's been on a real streak with illustrating fossil crocs. If you don't know her, I highly recommend checking out her work. I'm of course talking about Júlia d'Oliveira.
And yes, of course I got the Wikipedia page for it ready. Tho with work getting in the way when it was published I almost feared I'd be unable to get to it first.
Parrots are far from the only bird able to mimic human speech. Many other birds, like the crow or the mynah. Other animals like my personal favorite, the Macgregor’s bowerbird (Amblyornis macgregoriae), can even mimic other environmental sounds. Here’s a very cool clip from the Netflix documentary Dancing with the Birds, showcasing the wide range of the Macgregor’s bowerbird.
If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a kofi!
ah, these are quite the specimens! I wonder what sanctuary they're located at.
A Melanistic & Albino Alligator
Photographer: snakebytestv
show, don't tell:
anticipation - bouncing legs - darting eyes - breathing deeply - useless / mindless tasks - eyes on the clock - checking and re-checking
frustration - grumbling - heavy footsteps - hot flush - narrowed eyes - pointing fingers - pacing / stomping
sadness - eyes filling up with tears - blinking quickly - hiccuped breaths - face turned away - red / burning cheeks - short sentences with gulps
happiness - smiling / cheeks hurting - animated - chest hurts from laughing - rapid movements - eye contact - quick speaking
boredom - complaining - sighing - grumbling - pacing - leg bouncing - picking at nails
fear - quick heartbeat - shaking / clammy hands - pinching self - tuck away - closing eyes - clenched hands
disappointment - no eye contact - hard swallow - clenched hands - tears, occasionally - mhm-hmm
tiredness - spacing out - eyes closing - nodding head absently - long sighs - no eye contact - grim smile
confidence - prolonged eye contact - appreciates instead of apologizing - active listening - shoulders back - micro reactions
A Cozy Cabana for Crocodiles, Alligators and their ancestors. -fan of the webcomic Paranatural, Pokemon, Hideo Kojima titles -updates/posts infrequently
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