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from Cal Poly Geology

Swanton Pacific Ranch

During the weekend of November 11-12 the applied geophysics class collected seismic refraction, electrical (VES, ERT, IP), and H/V data over the aquifer at Swanton Pacific Ranch. The goal was to characterize the structure of the aquifer by assessing variations in depth and composition.

Here are some fun photos of the event:

The whole gang: thewholegang

Setting up an ERT profile: ertfieldcrew

Collecting seismic refraction data: jackhammer

The yurts: SPRyurts

Planning survey profiles: planningprofiles

Happy geophysicists: noodlesbigmac

 
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from Genetas

“青千”难拿

简单查了一些今年获得“青年千人”的人发表的文章,生物医学领域,一篇CNS+一篇主流期刊,或者一篇影响因子20以上+一篇10以上的,已经成了青千的标配。当然,我相信还有很多发了好文章而没有拿到青千的。

国内对于青年人才的争抢愈演愈烈,而青年千人更是重点争夺的对象。对于高校来说,“抢”个青千真是不易;对于准备海归的人来说,评上青千更是越来越难。

 
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from Genetas

Oncotarget杂志被 MEDLINE“踢出”

2017年9月MEDLINE数据库宣布不再收录《Oncotarget》杂志上所发表的文章。对于学术界,应该说这绝对是件好事。

与另外两个知名open access(OA)期刊《Scientific Reports》和《PLOS ONE》一样,Oncotarget这两年也是走上了在发稿量上疯狂扩张的道路:2014全年发文量不足1000,2016年已经超过6000。杂志也是由月刊变成半月刊、再变成周刊、现在直接成了每周两期!与此同时,杂志社攫取了巨额利润(3400美元/篇)。疯狂扩大发稿量必然导致文章整体档次的下降,该杂志的影响因子近几年也是呈现出了明显要下跌的趋势。

《Oncotarget》在邀请审稿人的时候,邮件里有这么一句话,原文是:”Please consider to submit your own paper for publication in Oncotarget. Please indicate in the cover letter (or/and the comment to editors) that you have served as Reviewer.”仔细品味,是不是很有想象空间?

由于自引率高等原因,MEDLINE近日宣布不再收录该杂志,对于oncotarget来说,这无疑是一个巨大的利空,毕竟MEDLINE数据库是学术工作者获取科研文献的一个重要手段(说是最重要的途径也不为过),我想任何人都很清楚离开MEDLINE以后oncotarget将面临着学术影响力进一步下滑的境地。或许在未来不久的某一天Web Of Science数据库也将其除名了。如果这事真的发生,那么靠在这个杂志“灌水”以期获取奖金或者科研基金的人就真的要更加郁闷了。

​其实这些知名OA杂志整体上是什么水平业内人士都很清楚,靠此类刊物获得业内认可简直等于痴人说梦。想凭借在这些杂志上发表学术论文而获得基金的资助是越来越难,甚至有传言说,如果基金申请人的代表性论文都是发表在这些OA期刊的话,该申请不会得到资助。此外,已经有一些国内的高校和医院对在这些期刊发文停止科研奖励,并且职称晋级的时候也不予计算,甚至有些地方连在这些杂志发文的版面费也不给报销了。关于此,我只想说:让我们对掠夺性OA期刊更凶狠一点吧!凭什么把纳税人的钱白白送给这些没有节操的所谓的学术出版机构?!

 
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Anonymous

She believed that one day she could do something so spectacular, so extraordinary that she would be remembered and adored by all. This belief grew into a magnificent plan, and those within close proximity could practically smell the eagerness and ambitiousness that radiated off the child. But only her sister could see this belief for what it had really become; a cancer. Over time she saw the girl work less and less, beginning to think that this event would come with an open hand and approach her easily. She didn't stop to think about previous successors – those who had left their mark in the world – but instead waited and laid back for something that would never happen if she didn't put in the effort and time. Over time, the girl lost her friends. It was obvious that she would drag them down with her if she kept on insisting that “No, we don't need to pass because we'll be rich by the time we leave!” and “It's okay, I didn't really care about that grade anyway. It won't matter when we're famous.”. But the most worrying event was the innocence and ignorance, the arrogance yet gullibility of the word “Why?”. She has to go to school. Why? She needs to revise more. Why? She has to get a job. Why? Why must she, when she's already thinking of how she'll present her life-changing products, when she's already planning how great rendezvous with a famous, influential actor who will realize her potential in the world? When she'll become the face of greatness, when she'll make a difference?

But these were mere fantasies that she simply retreated to in hard times, or ran to as soon as life threw a punch.

To quote Coldplay;

When she was just a girl, She expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, So she ran away in her sleep.

And dreamed of paradise.

 
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from pete-alex-harris

The Silk Mind – What the fuck was I thinking? ====================================

This is a little promo/apology for my first novel, The Silk Mind which was born from the combination of a few accidents and personality defects.

I felt like having a go at NaNoWriMo. I'd written some shit short stories and taken a stab at the start of a longer one with no real idea where it was going. But there was something I specifically wanted to write, for the sake of it existing outside my head.

You see, I'm kind of lazy about following through on projects, and there were two hanging around unfinished (barely started really, in retrospect) that were never going to get done in their original form.

I had long ago been running an AD&D game, which was a lot of fun, but the party ran into a carelessly-rolled phase spider and not enough of them survived to pursue the campaign all the way through to the story reveal, or get to the place I wanted them to reach for the next thing to happen. Disappointing, but there was no enthusiasm to get back to it with another party right away. Other friends DMed other games and eventually that tailed off.

But I had a deadly forest to explore in my imagination, and a dangerously clever empress to put my friends in harm's way.

The other project was apparently unrelated: I was trying to write a computer game in Python. It was going to be a simple 3D RPG with an adventuring story line and some humour. This was back before most of the convenient 3D graphics libraries for Python were available, so I spent a ridiculously long time teaching myself OpenGL 2 and writing my own scene graph wrapper around it. Blender wouldn't write any formats I could read and render with my limited understanding, so I wrote my own really stupid 3D modelling tool called skeled. It was not great.

Eventually I realised progress was way too slow and I'd never get the game itself written, and now OpenGL 3 was out and all the code I'd written so far was now the Wrong Way To Do It™. I used the library for 2 or 3 PyWeek game jams, and then kind of gave up.

But I had an imaginary adventuring party needing put in harms way, an empress needing a very dangerous job done in a very dangerous forest, and a giant badger. I wasn't going to just throw all that away.

Hence, NaNoWriMo.

I sat down, and I wrote a little over 50,000 words of utter nonsense. It was the best fun, and I've been hooked since. I knew in my heart, in my bones this was never going to be published by or for anyone else, so I knocked it approximately into shape and put it up on the internet. By me, for me.

Then when I got slightly better at writing, I looked at it again, shrieked in horror, took it down again and made it at least mostly OK. And put it back up.

It is in this form (https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B013O364BS) that The Silk Mind is now available. I made the paperback later because I'd learned how to do that for my 2nd book Miasma and I needed to provide a reward for the kickstarter for the Shadows at the Door horror anthology.

What can I say about this, my stupid first book? It's fairly cosy, it steered away from fantasy tropes whenever I saw them looming ahead, and I like the characters. There are a few non-canon chapters in the middle that were just me being daft, so if you happen to read it, it's OK to skip them. You will know which they are. You can read it for free on Movellas.com, and you can get the EPUB from Smashwords for “name your own price” which in practice means 0.00 (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/439275)

It's entirely possible this was just me transferring my skill at doing computer graphics The Wrong Way to the field of novel writing. It is life's most transferable skill, I find. No regrets, though.

 
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Anonymous

Fuck. I have a crush on my boss.

Seriously. I have a crush on my boss. But she has a wife. And I’m not mentioning the age difference… like that matters. But yes. It is her. Like a woman. A grown woman. A woman. I have a crush on a woman. Surprisingly, it wasn’t such a shock for me, really. I just… realized that I like her more than just a boss, or a friend… Well, let me explain from the very beginning. You see, I am a girl, obviously. I always liked her personality. I mean, come on. She is like the most relaxed person ever. She is simply cool, has a sense of humor I don’t really have. Basically, she is everything I am not. Cool, laid back, funny. But then, it came to my knowledge that she is gay. And that she has a wife. And suddenly… I realized… I can have her. Like, it’s fucking possible. (But not.) You know how I see it? I just never lived with that kind of possibility in my head. I mean, I was never repulsed by the idea of kissing a girl or girls being in a relationship together. But also, I have never met a lesbian before. Or any gay for that matter. Never ever. So, even though I’ve always liked the way she looked at me and touched me and addressed me… I mean. I just liked it too much. To the point where I never knew what to say when she was around. I simply got paralyzed. Because it was her. But then… HOLY CRAP! In that moment I realized that I wouldn’t mind having a go with her. Even fucking snuggle with her and wake up with her in the same bed. Like… I would be fucking interested in her! Romantically. And if we were to look at her from what society considers to be objective beauty, I would say that she is far from what is considered fucking “ideal”. It is completely fucking platonic and based on who she is as a PERSON! She is just too fucking attractive in that way for me. FUCK GENDERS! So, naturally, the question has arisen… Am I actually a bisexual? Pansexual? Queer? Who the hell cares? I like her. Too much. I have a fucking crush on my boss. Who is married, and I guess around ten years older than me. I should fucking stop looking for older and unattainable partners. It will obviously won’t work until I get myself together. George, my theatre teacher…. Now my boss… Seriously? But. I made a big mistake with him. I was stupid and he is just bigger dick than he ever was. She… well. No. No way. It is like… Of course, I will keep liking her. I doubt I would be able to stop it, anyway. But come on. I would be so afraid of her, haha, if it came to anything. Because, honestly, it’s been some time since I liked anyone. Like any guy. Like around two years even. No, it will stay completely platonic, I just have to watch myself, so I won’t get carried away or look at her like the most perfect thing in the world, or touch her too much. Yep. I get kinda touchy around her. And the whole LGBT thing… I mean. It is, by default, very difficult for me to find myself attractive to anyone. Guys, and now girls… I mean, the fact that I might be really bisexual, doesn’t change anything about that, I guess. It is not about GENDERS, I realized. I fucking fall in love with PERSONS! HUMAN BEINGS! And I am not ashamed of that! That I might be in fact a bisexual human being. It is just the term for a sexual identity one adopts. It doesn’t mean anything, really. The term BISEXUAL doesn’t limit person to be one or the other thing, or be attracted to anyone on a definite spectrum. It doesn’t say that you must be this and this and that just because you belong to some kind of community… or, as I learned in the last few days, that you are slutty or messy, or confused or you cant decide… or you cant pick a side… It’s not like you can pick a side. You are a fucking BISEXUAL or PANSEXUAL or QUEER for that matter. You simply are attracted to genders. All of them, or just the two of them. It’s not like you can choose to not be a lesbian! It’s the same with bis and pans and queers. We simply are attracted. It’s not like we can help it, for god’s sake. It is, of course, a completely different matter how you stand on it individually. The spectrum is WIDE. You can have romantic relationships with girls, but have sexual encounters with guys and vice versa. You can even estimate to what extent you are attracted to what gender percentually if that makes your sexual identity clearer FOR YOU. It terms and labels and numbers are important, I get it. LGBT community didn’t fight for its rights to only let the terms for who we identify ourselves individually, fade away. I get it. But how I see the labels and terms… They only serve for you! They shouldn’t limit you and your evolution as a human being. They shouldn’t put you necessarily in one category defined by fucking Wikipedia. You can be BI and then TRANS and then fucking GAY if you want. If this is your personal evolvement, let it be that way! I am who I am. Do I like my boss? Yes, I fucking do like her! I have a fucking crush on her and I am excited about it! Nothing will come of it, in most probability (but I can dream, right?), but if she was to serve as a way to realize that it is not the GENDER that matters to ME, but a who the person is like, than fucking GREAT! I LOVE IT! And you know what? I may never fall in love with a woman again. Ever. Or… I may never fall in love with a man again. Ever. Will any of those possibilities make me less of a BISEXUAL? Fucking no! Why? Because, it is not the MAN or a WOMAN that matters to ME. It is who THEY ARE as HUMAN BEINGS! I like both. Dicks AND vaginas. I really do like both. Though, I think I would suck at sex with a girl 😊 Though, we all have our first times… don’t we?

 
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from write.as

One of the most exciting parts about building a simple app and sending it out to the world is seeing how people use it. Often you'll see people find new uses that you never imagined — other times, they'll show you exactly what you should build. While a plain writing-focused blogging platform has been perfect for most people, we also saw some wishing to spruce things up with some graphics.

So today we build that directly into Write.as with our early launch of Snap.as!

The Snap.as UI.

Now Pro writers can upload photos, save a note with each (that'll come in handy later), and get the bit of text you need to add an image to your post. Like Write.as, it's simple, ad-free, and respectful of your time — and unlike free image hosting services, Snap.as is supported directly by you. That means we'll keep building it with your best interests in mind.

To get started, simply sign up with your Write.as account and start uploading!

This is just the start for us. Next you'll be able to import your photos already hosted on free services (so they have a permanent home), and eventually you'll be able to share beautiful, simple galleries. Check out our roadmap to see what's ahead, and as always, let us know how you like Snap.as!

 
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Anonymous

My love, on this Christmas

Nothing is needed but you In my life for Christmas. Physical, material things This holiday, I will not miss. Money cannot buy you For priceless you are. I feel your loving presence Even from afar. Blessed I am with new meaning, A purpose for which to grow. For I thought I knew it all Until your love came to show.

You fill me with joy and happiness. Merry Christmas!

 
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Anonymous

Dear love,

It's been nice talking to you again. Almost 3 years now since we broke up. I don't even know how but somehow I found the courage to message you again. You said you still missed me. We talked about our missed chance and lost years. I agreed with everything you said. I am not sure why I did that. I do love you. No reason in hiding just how much I have missed you over the years and how many times I wanted to hear you say those exact words. I guess the suspense is over, I know exactly how you feel but instead of making me happy it brings more sadness in my heart. You know why? You felt like this and can even tell me you will wait for me and how I wouldn't have to worry about you going off on your separate way again but you didn't bother to message me or talk to me first to tell me those things yourself. I feel betrayed even before we move any further. I want to tell you to stop. I want to disconnect again. I spend three years away from you. I thought of you probably every day but I survived. I know what I am worth. I know what kind of attention I received in my time away from you. I was loved and I did feel love again. I never allowed it to form its roots deep within me. Sometimes I wonder whether that was because I actually missed you and wanted you back or because I didn't want anyone else to have the power to hurt me the way you did again. I made myself whole again but here you are...ripping through my heart once more and I can't even be sure what your true intentions are. I want to tell you how my heart starts racing when I look across the library where I study and see this one boy. I want to tell you that when I close my eyes I see myself with him and picture a new journey, maybe a bit bitter but mostly sweet with him. I talk to you and see where you have been and what kind of girls you have dated and it doesn't make me happy that you want me back but sad that you didn't realise this when you actually had me. You used to own my heart. I loved you so much, I let it consume me. I don't think I can go through that again yet I am afraid to say these words to you.

Not sure how to feel anymore...

 
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from Mark White

Profound solitude.

Something missing in my life.

Sometimes my tolerance for the chaos of people runs out.

Sometimes I just need peace, stability around me a world reflecting my mind.

 
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Anonymous

Random thought time.

Ever sit down and get stuck in your thoughts. Just stuck. Maybe walking around your place wondering what your next move is but can't make a move when you think of a move. Over- thinking then thinking some more.

I sit in my hotel room that my company paid for. Contemplating about writing in my journal or reading Arthur C. Clarke. Then I get the urge to masturbate, so I do it. Back to thinking. I then realized I don't want people to know I'm writing because I'm too introverted for that. I don't want to talk about it too you. Next thought is I should be writing whatever it is I am going to write in my girlfriend's Christmas card. Which is followed by thoughts of an Indian girl that sat by me on the plane. Fantasies follow.

Damn it's late. I need to sleep. Do I have everything ready for tomorrow? It's going to be cold – I hope I don't freeze.

Interesting painting on the wall. Looks like a mess except for what looks like a person in the painting. Is that a breast?

So random. Perhaps I'll have something significant to write later....

 
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Anonymous

Restless

I feel restless this morning. I need something to do. Knocked out some push-ups and squats in my room to try and relieve it. Kind of worked, but I'm still feeling this restlessness. But it's more than that- it's something else. More like I don't know what to do. Should I read, right, watch TV, research something online? My mind goes back and forth. I should write to my girl. Still haven't written her Christmas card. Why am I procrastinating? Hmm.... I procrastinate when I over-analyze over and over. Tossing ideas back and forth- and so on. Tossing until I realize I'm stuck. Sometimes I have to force myself to make a decision. Trying to release myself from this, what if?, predicament.

It's nice to be able to write in silence, without any distractions, and no noise. Knowing that my girl and the kids will not pop up out of nowhere. I have an hour to do whatever. Perhaps I should try meditation. Let my mind wander.

Introvert Mind. That will be the title of my blog. There's a website called Write.As. you can just post whatever you want there. And do it anonymously. No feedback though. Why I write online if you received nothing back? Weather negative or positive. Did I help you, hurt you? Make you sad, happy, angry? Inspire?

 
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from Being Ashley

The Simple Pleasure of Being Seen

I like how he watches me. Consistently. Intently. Curiously. I know he is paying attention. He watches me as I frown in front of the mirror mumbling about the impact of our afternoon play on my already chaotic hair. He watches as I add lip gloss and pat down my hair with concern, as I cast about the room for discarded clothing. He smiles and hands me a sock. Waits while I bend down in front of him to retrieve my jeans. All the time, he watches. Earlier he watched with intent as he used his fingers to slowly make he buck wantonly on the hotel bed, as I ran my tongue over every part of him. He held my head gently and moaned as he watched me take him in my mouth.

I am not sure where the joy in being watched comes from, but I wonder if it’s not partly about how deeply validating it is to be seen, just as we are. In watching another perhaps we are providing a very specific kind of mirror. Perhaps in his watching I can see a glimpse of what I am unable to fully see in myself, except when reflected from another. The capacity to give and receive pleasure, to be an actual vehicle of it.

I want to replace every mirrored surface with this look of him watching me.

 
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Anonymous

Let me tell you a story.

One day, a salesman comes to your door.

“I have something for sale!” They pull out a gun. “And you are required to buy it.”

You stare incredulously at the gun barrel pushed up to your nose.

“I don't want this and it's too expensive.”

They take a look at a list.

“I have good news! According to your income here, we can give you a massive discount. I'll pay for most of it. This is an offer you can't refuse.”

They cock the hammer back on the gun ominously.

“Fine, I'll buy your thing.” You concede.

An entire year goes by. At the end of that year, you find the love of your life and get married. Your household income increases. The salesman comes back. They look gravely disappointed in you.

“We have a few problems here. One, we gave you too much of a discount last year and you're going to have to pay us back for our mistake. Two, we discovered that you didn't deserve any of that discount. You were married that whole year and defrauded us. So now you have to pay us back for the whole amount.”

Your jaw drops. “Let me get this straight. You forced me to buy this thing, you gave me the wrong discount, you are too stupid to see that I was only married for the last two weeks of last year, and now you want me to pay you back for the whole thing that I didn't even use or even want?”

“Yes,” is the reply as they hold the gun to your head again.

 
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from jsx

“How could I better say no to the noise to better say yes to the adventures I craved?”

This year, I tried a whole mess of stuff. I am really proud of all of the different things that I tried to do and the different things that I looked at it. I did a lot of things that are out of my comfort zone. That did a few things for me. It helped me figure out where are the places that I want to go and what do I want to spend sometime doing.

But, even with all of the testing and experimenting. I still find myself in this same spot and in this same area.

I am craving something. I can feel it every day and every morning that fire that burns inside of me. I can feel it when I go to bed at night just disappointed in the achievements of the day.

Am I just not honest with myself and my abilities to be the person that I want to be? Is the noise just to much and I just can’t see the adventure in front of me?

 
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Anonymous

DILLON BROWN
THE HAUNTED DOLL

Once there was a family that went to the store and bought a doll with really long nails. And when they bought it the person at the cash register told them to clip the dolls nails every night. except for one halloween night she forgot to clip the dolls nails. After trick or treating she went to bed. In the middle of the night she heard, “dolly in your brothers room”. So she walked into her brother's room and saw her brother slumped on the ground dead. Then she heard it again, “dolly in your sister's room”. So she walked into her sister's room and saw her slumped on the ground dead. Then she heard it again,”dolly in your parent’s room”. So she walked into her parent’s room and saw her parents slumped on the ground dead. She was getting really scared, but then she heard it again but closer,”dolly right behind you”! So she turned around and picked up the doll and threw it on the ground running and screaming as loud as she can, then the doll came up behind her scratching. When she looked down she saw blood running down her legs. She was getting tired, she was about to stop, luckily the doll had fallen and broke her nails. But she had no time to lose. She knew the dolls nails would grow back. She kept on running. Soon she came to a stop. She was looking around for the doll, the doll was out of sight. Suddenly she heard screaming. She looked into other houses looking for the doll. She saw the doll in her friend's house with lots of knives.

Chapter 2 The girl was slowly creeping into her friend’s house. She heard scratching in the kitchen. She tried to keep away from the kitchen. But she couldn't resist, so she went to the kitchen and saw nothing but a phone. She picked it up and started to call 911. They didn't answer, she called again they didn't answer, she called again, there was an answer, it was the doll. She went to the police station looking for the doll. She finally found doll with an army of thirty others. She had to hide, but before she could hide, the doll and her army found her. She ran away looking for help, she was looking for her friends, then she looked back and saw her friend in the dolls army. The doll was controlling them. She tried to find more help, but it was no use. The doll had them all.Her legs were getting stiff. She looked down at her legs, they were turning into plastic. The scratches from the doll on her legs were turning her into a doll.

 
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