the fact that we only have “herculean task” and “sisyphean task” feels so limiting. so here’s a few more tasks for your repertoire
icarian task: when you have a task you know you’re going to fail at anyways, so why not have some fun with it before it all comes crashing down
cassandrean task: when you have to deal with people you KNOW won’t listen to you, despite having accurate information, and having to watch them fumble about when you told them the solution from the start (most often witnessed in customer service)
feel free to chime in i ran out of ideas much faster than i anticipated
Promethean task: opposite of a Cassandraean task. You have the right information, and SOMEONE has to share it. But it’s all in the delivery and if you’re the person to identify the problem you WILL be hated forever.
Oedipal Task: (1) Attempting to avoid an unspeakably awful outcome and in doing so creating the circumstances that will bring it about. (2) Trying to solve an problem and discovering that you are in fact the problem you are trying to solve.
Odyssean task: you’ll complete it but it’ll take 20 times longer than it should and involve multiple side quests and mini-adventures
Pandorean task: some people fucked around and now it’s your job to make sure they find out
orphic task: circumstances beyond your control force you to go some place you really really don’t wanna go. nobody in that place wants you to be there either. come back changed forever without the one thing that sent you there in the first place.
Pyrrhic task: you’ll complete it, and you’ll wish you hadn’t.
honey is the only food product that never spoils. there are pots of honey that are over five thousand years old and still completely edible
i also want to point out we know it tastes the same even after thousands of years b/c archaeologists who discovered two thousand year old honey tasted it. presumably right after they looked at each other and went “what the hell here goes nothing”
I’m pretty sure they also identify human remains by taste. Archaeologists are straight up freaks.
No, no no… you identify bone from rock or other substances by touching it to your tongue. If it sticks, it’s bone. The taste itself has nothing to do with it. And most archaeologists won’t lick human bones if they know they’re human.
…and I realize that doesn’t actually do much to prove archaeologists aren’t freaks.
mai nam is jane and wen i dig i fynde some roks both smol and big i put my tung upon the stone for science yes i lik the bone
I’m sitting with a bunch of archaeologists and we just laughed so hard we CRIED we’re getting tshirts with this on them
I will never ever get tired of seeing bredlik poems. It is really one of the seminal art forms of the century. I am not being sarcastic.
If I ever don’t reblog this, assume I’m dead and archaeologists are licking my bones.
I fucking hate this I hate that human beings who want to build and create and live life are forced to waste their lives fighting for meaningless timewaster jobs while the positions of artists and actors and musicians and painters are replaced by plagiarism machines and algorithms and nothing you work to pay for belongs to you I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it I hate it if a robot can do our jobs then why the FUCK aren’t we living
You spend your childhood training to efficiently perform labour you don’t want to do so you can spend your adulthood performing labour you don’t want to do so you have money to borrow a home you don’t own and be blasted in the face 24/7 by ads that tell you to spend money to borrow music you can’t own and borrow movies you can’t own and use software and tools and games you can’t own and every day you wish you were maybe at least doing labour that you enjoyed but the only labour you might not hate is being performed by a machine built so that 5 000 people just like you didn’t have to he paid so THEY Zhave to find jobs they hate so they can live in homes they don’t own and spend money buying art they can’t own produced by nobody ripping tearing shreddingbiting biting biting biting biting
I don’t hate my job I really don’t but some days I think of all the art, pottery, sculptures and clothing and fabric and murals I could be making instead and I imagine what I could be if I wasn’t struggling for the bare fucking minimum in a polyester suit and I don’t even want to be rich or famous or live in luxury I just want a bedroom where I can paint the walls yellow and I can’t even have that because nobody will feed you unless you’re willing to fight your neighbors tooth and nail for the leftovers of a billionaire and a fucking algorithm
I don’t even have the words
Like
I want to buy low, sell high, and make a profit
I want to buy low, sell high, make a profit, and double that number next quarter
I want to pay your labour low, sell it back to you high, make a profit, and double that number next quarter
I want to pay you nothing, sell a machine’s labour to you high, make a profit plus your wage and double that number next quarter
I want to pay you nothing, rent a machine’s labour to you high, make a profit plus your wage, keep the product, and double that number next quarter
I want to sell you woodchips and glue and charge you extra for floor sweepings on the side
I want to sell you foam and wishes tied shut in an old plastic bag
I want to sell you a monthly subscription fee to sniff the loose change in my pocket
I want you to dedicate your life to funneling me profits hand over fist while receiving nothing, owning nothing, living nothing, and double that number nxt quarter
I want to squeeze blood from a stone that never crumbles, never cracks, and bleeds twice as heavy next quarter
And I want it to be softer, so my fist won’t get sore
Reading this in 2024 feels like an immortal returning to their old village after 300 years and finding it’s been converted to a heritage site full of period actors