• Miles O'Brien@startrek.websiteEnglish
    17·
    4 days ago

    I recently watched a 3d video in a small theater about dinosaurs, and in the video we follow a T-Rex mother from her first eggs to death, including a fight with another dinosaur that ends up crippling a leg, and then the last few shots of her are limping toward carrion to survive a little longer, and then dead in a creek bed and I legitimately almost walked out of the little theater we were in.

    I may have smoked a little before going in, so I may have been a little more emotional than usual. But still.

    • weker01@sh.itjust.works
      4·
      3 days ago

      No… The store bought lobster???

      Edit: I was not prepared for this today… He brought us so much joy in the time of need and lockdown.

      • Gurei@sh.itjust.works
        5·
        3 days ago

        Unfortunately. My apologies for bringing the news upon you. Good what is worth, his other housemates thrive, both in and out of the tank.

      • FooBarrington@lemmy.world
        5·
        4 days ago

        Imagine following the pencil for a whole school year, watching it get smaller and smaller as the arrow of time keeps marching forward evermore

        • Remember_the_tooth@lemmy.world
          3·
          4 days ago

          David Attenborough: This Ticonderoga #2 pencil has seen better days. Watch as the student draws it from its pencil case for the current task at hand: a two-hour written exam.

            • Remember_the_tooth@lemmy.world
              7·
              4 days ago

              The Final Scribble: The Life and Death of Petey the Pencil

              [Scene opens on a stark, fluorescent-lit examination hall. Rows of anxious students bend over their desks, scribbling with quiet intensity. The sound of pencil lead scratching against paper fills the air.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): In the unforgiving environment of the university testing chamber, a silent struggle unfolds. Here, tools of intellect are pushed to their limits—not just the minds of students, but their humble, graphite-bearing companions.

              [Camera pans to a close-up of a yellow No. 2 pencil. His paint is chipped, his eraser nearly gone. We meet our subject.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): This is Petey. Graphitus scribblum, affectionately named “Petey” by his human, an undergraduate in Anthropology 201.

              [Cut to Petey being lifted shakily by a caffeine-twitching hand.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): For many semesters, Petey has lived a noble life: lecture notes, marginal doodles, perhaps the occasional crossword. But today… today he faces his final trial.

              [The student begins writing furiously. Petey dances across the page in a flurry of facts, formulas, and half-remembered concepts about Neanderthal toolkits.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): Watch as he glides with precision—his graphite core converting thought into text at astonishing speeds. But each word comes at a cost.

              [The camera slowly zooms in: Petey is visibly shorter now. The student presses harder as stress mounts.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): Each line drains him. Once a full-grown pencil, proud and unsharpened, Petey is now a shadow of his former self—barely three inches in length. And yet, he persists.

              [Petey is lifted again. This time, his wood groans faintly. He scribbles half of a sentence. Then… a snap.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): Ah. Tragedy. A critical fracture at the midpoint. His brittle frame can bear no more. The graphite, worn thin, gives way under pressure.

              [The student stares at the broken pencil in disbelief. A panicked shuffle for a backup ensues.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): And just like that, Petey’s journey comes to an end. Not with fanfare, nor a ceremonious farewell—but with a quiet crack, unheard by all but one.

              [Cut to Petey resting beside a used coffee cup and a heavily dog-eared exam booklet. His tip dulled, his spirit spent.]

              DAVID ATTENBOROUGH (V.O.): Yet, in his final moments, he gave all he had in service of knowledge. Few tools live with such dignity. Fewer still die in the act of creation.

        • Remember_the_tooth@lemmy.world
          5·
          4 days ago

          Don’t watch nature documentaries, then.

          David Attenborough: “This is Snowball, a 4-week-old arctic hare”

          [I pause the documentary]

          Partner: “Babe, why’d you do that?”

          Me: “Just getting some tissues.”

          Partner: “Why? Look at the cute bunny!”

          [Unpause]

          David Attenborough: “This is Throat-shredder. She is the leader of her pack of starving arctic wolves.”

          Partner: “Oh, no.”

          Me: “Tissue?”

          [Grisly killing noises from the TV]