As I understood it, they're not doing it the old fashioned way because they're trying to breed alpacas who are more resilient against climate change, and it's easier to send a jar of spunk than to send an entire male alpaca.
[Image transcription] Three veterinarians in green scrubs manhandle a fluffy white Alpaca in a dark wood-paneled room, a fourth person in a floppy bucket hat assists. It is not clear by the image, but the Alpaca is perfectly safe, being prepared for in vitro fertilization. [end]
[Image transcription] A long haired orange and white cat stands out against a background of military-style bags and silver insulation. Below the cat, acting as the cat's bed, a young Caucasian man with a dredlock hairstyle sleeps curled up on his side in fetal position on black insulation mats. He is wearing military-issue clothing. The scene is peaceful. [end transcription]
RIP, Ukrainian poet and soldier, Maksym Kryvtsov (and his beloved cat), killed in action defending Ukraine.
We're being more lax this time around, at least for now, because the community is small.
We had to be stricter in the subreddit because the volume of posts was insane and anytime something didn't quite "measure up" to peoples' (absolutely batshit insane) expectations, the comment section demanded mod blood sacrifices.
So if something doesn't quite "measure up"? Eh, no big deal. We're not writing down the usernames of the naughty users that post something that's 20% too baroque.
Lots of old timey artists "cheated" by using out of boundary light sources to light their scenes, this is not the "gotcha" you think it is.
You know that hippies still wear snoods, right? The rest of her clothes are modern but distinctly hippie-styled, so this is either the world's laziest renfaire costume, or it's just a hippie wearing clothes like a hippie does.
Mod here.
The thing that would help the most is if people actually, you know, posted stuff?
We haven't flocked back to Reddit, but it's difficult to remember to stop by when almost nothing changes day to day.
Image Transcription:
[ A man in a brown monk's habit leans down to pet a friendly orange cat in a bucolic monastic landscape that includes gardens and medieval-looking buildings. The man, who is on the right, leans heavily on a walking stick, his chocolate brown monk's habit is tied at the waist with a rope. His salt-and-pepper grey hair is cut in a typical modern men's style rather than a monk's tonsure. He is smiling in delight as the orange cat to the side props it's front paws halfway up the walking stick to get closer to the monk's hand which is cradling the cat's head and neck, mid-scratch. The ground below them is of mottled green, rather scrubby mixed grasses. Behind the small hill they're on, we can see a very tidy, rather large vegetable and herb garden stretching into the distance. Behind that, a short stone wall and a large multi-story grey building that is at least over a hundred years old, probably more. Farther beyond still, gentle hills look blue against the horizon, and graceful pine trees stretch towards the sky.]
Image Transcription:
[ A pale woman with a tight hair bun and glasses sits at a dining room table, her hands folded in her lap, with a laptop open in front of her. The bright sunlight from the window immediately to the left bathes her in the cold sunlight of early morning. On the table in front of her, difficult to make out in the over-exposed area of the photo, are a can of soda and a notebook. She is dressed in an oversized pale green knitted cardigan and a dark purple turtleneck shirt, and what appears at first to be an exquisitely decorated yellow brocade skirt with fringe trim is, upon closer inspection, a blanket she has draped over her lap for warmth. It is simply an optical illusion that she is wearing some kind of grandiose ballgown; An illusion heightened by a long light blue jacket hung over the chair she is sitting on that looks something like a bustle. The room she is sitting in has warm-hued walls and a tile floor to match, giving it a vaguely historic vibe. ]
Thank you!!! <3
Image Transcription:
[ A young woman behind a cafe bar carefully pours frothed milk from a small stainless steel pitcher into a sturdy teacup. The woman’s dark hair is pulled back and out of her face with a grey pinstripe kerchief , secure in place with black hairclips, giving her a folksy look that initially seems at odds with the trendy decor of the shop. It’s all exposed joists, Edison-style bulbs, slick stainless steel, severe white paint with a dark reclaimed wood floor, but the rest of her outfit (a typical all-black waitress wardrobe with a black half-apron and a shirt that has three-quarter length sleeves that highlight toned forearms from carrying trays all day) speak very much to her kerchief being a practical and stylish alternative to a hairnet. The hand that is closest to us rests lightly on the counter, her delicate fingers splayed, a men’s style wristwatch sits halfway up her forearm. In front of her are stacks of saucers that match the standard color and sturdy thickness of the cup she is filling. There are some faint geometric discolorations visible across the entire photo because we are looking in from a window that is partially reflecting the building behind the camera. The photographer’s reflection cannot be seen; Either a fortuitous coincidence or (more likely) a conscious choice on the part of a skilled photographer to conceal themselves in a shadow to make the photo more immersive for the viewer. ]
Image Transcription:
[ Half a dozen dark-clothed figures stand some distance away from us in the badly damaged, grandiose white and gold marble halls of a Baroque-era church; safety-orange-striped hazard tape marks hazardous areas, and most of the figures wear safety orange or white hard hats, surveying the damage in soft diffused sunlight. To the left, in the distance, Corinthian-style columns tilt at a worrying angle barely able to hold up a heavy-looking interior cupola richly decorated with gold leaf. Figures directly below in orange hard hats survey the damage to the pillars but they are partially obscured by exquisitely delicate-looking low fencing, which hazard tape is pulled across and in front of. In the distance in the center of the image, decorative niches that are twice as tall as the figures in the image are partially destroyed, revealing joists and supports, and whatever they housed has been removed, although a lone white marble cross remains perched delicately above them. A gigantic gold chandelier fitted with electric candles hangs above, having received little damage, though because it is unlit it's not apparently clear if it managed to remain functional. To the far right, a large square structural support with a small gold electric sconce seems undamaged, but a very large pile of rubble at it's foot suggests that the roof it supports may no longer be intact. The figure at the center, facing away from us, appears to be wearing a priest's cassock, helmet-less, his arms hanging limply at his sides as he gazes upon what is left of his church. ]
Image Transcription:
[ What initially appears to be a painting of a rotund chef in a traditional uniform, mounted in an ornate gold frame and hanging on the wall is-- Upon closer inspection-- a window into a real life kitchen. The optical illusion is helped somewhat by the stark difference in lighting; the chef and the kitchen are under cool-toned florescent or LED lights, while the room where we sit is illuminated in soft warm lighting with darker stucco walls, creating the illusion that the kitchen scene is a sun-faded painting. The chef himself wears a double-breasted white chef's jacket with sleeves that are deeply creased from being pushed up habitually. The buttons strain against his considerable bulk and the toque sits on his brow snugly. His pale face is creased in concentration as he tips a fry basket into a pan and a cloud of steam billows upwards. A clear squeeze bottle of oil sits at his elbow and various metal handles and kitchen appliances clutter the sleek industrial kitchen. The bottom of the "frame" is a shelf, suggesting that this is less of a fine dining situation and more of a fast-casual restaurant where management installed the window to get food out as fast as possible to customers. ]
You may not have had the default feminine childhood that AFAB people like myself had, but I have seen trans women work so much harder and bust their asses just to be called "Ma'am" so in my eyes? You're absolutely a real woman. You just played the game on hard mode while the rest of us were on easy and normal mode.
You're as real a woman as any of us.
You worked for it rather than inheriting it.
If someone snaps a photo of a subject in good light, because the photographer instinctively knows what will make a good photo, but the subject is just doing their normal everyday things? We still consider it accidental.
Remember that we're not looking for photos that were accidentally taken, like the camera was yeeted through the air and this was the last photo it captured before it shattered. That's not what Accidental means in our context.
It means a situation that was already happening, but the moment that a photographer caught just happened to resemble a painting from the 14th-16th centuries.
We draw the line at people purposely recreating Renaissance vibes with costumes, or people doing a pose that is heavily associated with certain Renaissance paintings, or elaborate lighting rigs used in professional photo studios made specifically to replicate the lighting in Rembrandt's work (for example).
If the photographer was trying to make the mother and child recreate an exact Renaissance pose, they're doing a terrible job at it, but the overall effect is Renaissance-like.
Our reward circuits go off when someone mentions taking a rest.
Bee reward circuits go off for things that we would consider work.
Basically, the whole time they are face-first in a flower slurping up nectar and gathering pollen, the thing going through their tiny brains is "Fuck yeah I needed this".
If you gave a bee the day off the general sentiment would be "What the fuck man, this is bullshit, I demand you let me go and collect nectar right fucking now!"
Banning vs. not banning are not hallmarks of leftism, rather it's the difference between communities that are making an effort to be inclusive (a hallmark of leftism, btw) versus communities where the mods are so tired and overworked that it's easier to ban people than adapt to the disruptions they may cause (a capitalist reflex that prioritizes being palatable to everyone over being fair to everyone because it's more time-efficient to be blandly palatable and to enforce case-by-case fairness).
So yeah, from a certain point of view, because of the simple fact that you are being tolerated marks Lemmy as a more leftist platform.
Image Transcription:
[ A young, dark-skinned woman softly kisses a dark-skinned infant in her arms, the infant gazes upwards, transfixed by the sunlight weakly spilling into bedroom where they sit. The child is wrapped in pale grey clothes and a white swaddling blanket and their face is inscrutable as they stare ope-mouthed into the soft that that just barely illuminates the room that is fitted with heavy green curtains and a tidy bed with white and off-white flower patterned linens. The woman herself has a facial expression of dignified serenity and she raises the child in her arms to her lips, softly kissing the baby on their cheek. She wears a loosely knitted dark red knitted beanie over her natural hair, a and a russet-colored men's shirt over a batik printed indigo-and-white traditional dress. The presence of belongings stuffed into plastic bags tucked behind the bed suggests that this may be a refugee or evacuation situation instead of the serene and comfortable bedroom it initially appeared to be. ]
Image Transcription:
[ The round, age-worn face of a middle-aged man emerges from pitch black darkness, with lighting reminiscent of the works of Raphael. The soft focus and neck-up cropping makes his skin look almost luminous against the deep shadows behind him and his mouth is pulled into a slight grimace. His large, grey-blue eyes seem to look past as rather than at us; They are framed by messy and sparse eyebrows and deep bags beneath his eyes. His thick moustache and goatee bisect his face and call attention to a strong, slightly cleft chin. His hair falls in tight reddish brown, close-cropped ringlets around his face, they shine here and there in the lighting. His light blue-grey turtleneck sweater is visible beneath the pure inky black of his jacket that melts into the darkness behind him. The overall effect is one of a working class man caught in surprise rather than a formal portrait sitting. ]
Image Transcription:
[ A bearded man in profile fills a dark-colored glass jug with pale beer which foams out the opening. The sun shines on the man's pale grey beanie which is pulled down low over his brow, covering his hair entirely, save for a small tuft of deep brown hair at the nape of his wide sturdy neck. His face is obscured in shadow and the lower half of his face is completely covered by a very fluffy but well-groomed beard. The sunlight casts crisp shadows on the ropey muscles in the man's forearms, softened only by a light fuzz of body hair that blends in with his pale skin. He wears a dark purple t-shirt and a number of beaded necklaces made of natural materials. In front of him, to either side, are rows and rows of clear pint glasses glinting in the low-angled sunlight and here and there in the background the sunlight catches metallic surfaces albeit fuzzy and out of focus-- A bright shiny copper tank, a steel tank with a surface that seems old and pitted, shiny rivets in trendy mis-aligned rusted tiles, the tap dispenser which has intentionally amateurish welding to create a more handmade aesthetic. There is something cloyingly artificial and hipsterish about the decor. A very mundane-looking large-diameter white PVC pipe snakes off over his head and off to one side, somewhat spoiling the faux antique look of the place, but it's one of the few clues that this is perhaps a real working brewery and not merely a theme bar aping the style of a brewery. ]
Image Transcription:
[ A large table laid with rustic-looking breads and an ornate tea set is interrupted by the unexpected presence of a curious cat. The table covered with an undyed rough canvas-like table cloth and upon it lays broken pieces of fine white bread torn from unusually-shaped loaves in the background: Wide, flat, and disk-like but absolutely massive, as wide as seat cushions. They have decorative stamped impressions on them of saucer-sized spirals, making them look quite fancy. Some bread chunks are on a plate that matches the fancy tea set, other chunks rest directly on the cream-colored tablecloth in the foreground. There are two teacups, partially filled with tea, with their matching teapot slightly farther away from us. It is white porcelain with large gold flourishes painted on it with smaller black details-- An oddly expensive looking detail when compared to the rustic look of the room with uneven mud-colored stucco walls that are bare save for a window where blindingly bright morning light pours in, with rustic-looking clutter on the windowsill and the faint outline of a door on the opposite side. Surveying the scene is a white cat with black spots, it’s front paws cheekily resting on the tablecloth so we can only see it’s head, chest and paws peeking up from it’s hiding place. It’s expression seems unimpressed by the grand spread of food, but one paw is stretched slightly forward and tensed, and it’s eyes are fixated on the bread loaves, leaving the distinct impression that the cat does not intend to remain a passive observer much longer. ]
Image transcription for the visually impaired:
[ A pale horse rears upwards. It has a cream-colored mane and is outfitted in highly ornamented riding gear in black, orange, and green. The horse's head is flung back dramatically, it's mouth grimacing against the bit in it's mouth, it's dirty yellow teeth bared. The bottom half of the horse is obscured by a tight-pressed crowd of casually-dressed people, their hands reaching towards the panicking animal, creating a sunburst-like effect, or perhaps like the foam of a crashing wave. It's long mane flies wildly in the breeze as it emerges from the sea of people around it. The sun beats down harshly in the foreground and most people in the crowd are wearing short sleeves that reveal suntanned arms, sunglasses and hats can be spotted in the crowd, in the very front people seem oblivious to the panicking animal, creating a sense of unease about how the next few moments will unfold. In the background, the tightly-packed crowd is cast in deep shade, pressed against a dirty and mildewed stucco wall, creating a pleasing contrast to the brilliant white form of the horse but also creates a sense of claustrophobia because it is not immediately apparent where people would escape to if the situation is not handled correctly. Barely visible to one side is a formally-pressed man in a black suit with a traditional riding helmet, he does not seem panicked. You can also barely see that the ride on the horse's back has not fallen off, their foot is still in the stirrup, suggesting this is all a part of some elaborate show and no one is in actual danger after all. ]
Mod here.
We're not looking for accidental photos, as in "I yeeted my phone and accidentally captured A Renaissance™", because those mostly don't exist.
We're looking for well-composed photos that, as the photographer was pursuing a nice photo, also accidentally copied the rules of Renaissance painting, which does sometimes overlap (as a happenstance) with the fundamentals of good photography.
We remove a shitload of photos that are objectively gorgeous and technically astute, but don't look like paintings, so trust me, there's a difference.