Does this house look familiar?… 🍔🍔🍔#Repost from @johnrobertsfun #bobsburgers #thebelchers #lorenbouchard #funfacts #behindbobsburgers
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The house that Loren lived in and based our Bob’s Burgers house on! #sanfrancisco
like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee
They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things
they are scary smart at solving puzzles
some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies
they can remember faces
SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT. They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows. Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag. But the nice guys with masks they left alone. THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight. THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.
They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.
A colleague of my dad’s lives next to a lake, and looked out the window one morning to see a duck trapped in the ice. A crow swooped down. “Oh hell,” she thought, expecting carnage, because crows are opportunists. But the crow chipped at the ice with its beak until the duck was free.
Idk of this counts but a few crows saved me from a magpie swooping attack once ,they’re bros who can tell when magpies are being unreasonable and need to chill
I love crows so damn much. When I was fifteen, I hit a pretty serious bout of depression, to the point I was in my room for months. Well, a family of crows made a nest in a tree outside my window. There were two parents and two chicks. One chick was healthy and strong. One was weak, and had a caw like something being strained. It sounded more like a rooster crowing and so my parents jokingly named him ‘Buck’.Well… months passed and Buck’s sibling was taught to fly. His parents focused on the sibling because the sibling was strong. The father stayed behind to try and teach Buck, but I saw him try to fly, fail, and crash to the floor. His father helped him back up into the tree.
Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.
That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him.
Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree.
That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.
Cut to ten years later? We have a family of crows who all have a very distinct caw and they come here and spend every spring, summer, and fall on our property. Buck still greets me every spring.
that last reply made me wanna cry. that’s so beautiful.
this one morning i kept hearing really loud caws, i remember it was like 5am, LIKE REALLY LOUD AND ANNOYING AND AGGRESSIVE, so loud that i could hear it through a closed window, and i eventually went outside to check it out. there was a crow on my front lawn, it had an injury on its head and couldn’t fly and there were two other crows circling right above it, and they were cawing like mad.
i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.
a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.
i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.
When education professor Sara Shear looked at academic standards for elementary and secondary schools in all 50 states, she found that a staggering 87 percent of references to Native Americans portrayed them as a population only existing before 1900.
“[Students] were coming into college believing that all Natives are dead,” she said. Perhaps this explains the general comfort in dressing up as Natives for Halloween, turning them into team mascots, and their overall lack of exposure in the media.
Aside from the Thanksgiving and Columbus Day narrative—still presented as an inevitable clash that the colonizers handled reasonably—little to nothing is said on the contemporary issues Native Americans are facing. “Nothing about treaties, land rights, water rights. Nothing about the fact that Nations are still fighting to be recognized and determine sovereignty,” Shear said.
New Mexico is the only state to even mention the name of a single member of the American Indian Movement; in fact, half the states don’t even name specific Nations or individual Natives (the most common being Sacagawea, Squanto, Sequoyah, and Sitting Bill). Washington is the only state to use the word “genocide” when referring to Natives (to their fifth graders), and Nebraska’s textbooks go so far as to portray Natives as lazy, drunk, or criminal, Shear found.
“This kind of curriculum, these misconceptions—all that has led to the invisibilization of Indigenous People,” said Tony Castro, a social studies education professor who assisted in Shear’s research project. While curriculum guidelines fail in their Native American coverage, he was disappointed to find that teachers didn’t tailor their lesson plans to the truth. “What we teach acts as a mirror to what we value and what we recognize as legitimate. These standards are perpetuating a misconception and are continuing to marginalize groups of people and minimize the concerns or issues those people have about being full citizens in the American democracy.”
“Fantastic photographer captures moment I got arrested protesting at Rhodes University, South Africa. I’m not a self-absorbed person, but I must say it’s a fantastic picture.” posted by reddit user ButtScratcherss
Children hold their breaths to prove
they can go without.
I practice the art of pushing away.
We are doing the same thing.
The space between intimacy
& drowning is closer than we think.
A little water is still an ocean.
Just a small one. Even in your mouth,
or perhaps especially then.
The undercurrent of every wave promises
goodbye. I do not trust a leaving thing
to come back the same
or at all.
To love– to hold the silt of salt water
on your tongue, the violent scrape of tides
dangling in the throat– is to be pillared
with reckless thrashing & call it
a beautiful thing.
