šis ir jautājums, par kuru es regulāri iedomājos.
es, kad tīru zobus, turu muti plaši vaļā, zobupastas putas šļakstās uz visām pusēm utt. bet samērā bieži, tīrot zobus kopā ar citiem cilvēkiem, esmu ievērojusi, ka viņi muti tur ciet, vismaz tīrot dzerokļus, un es nevaru saprast, vai tas aiz kaut kādas "pieklājības" (kas nozīmētu, ka es uzvedos kā nepieklājīgs rupeklis, haha), vai arī tā vienkārši ir populārāka zobu tīrīšanas metōde. tāpēc, lūk, jautājums zālei - kā jūs tīrāt zobus?

Poll #19865 zobu tīrīšana
Open to: All, results viewable to: All

vai, tīrot zobus, Tu galvenokārt turi muti plaši vaļā, vai arī ciet (lūpas pāri zobiem, aptverot zobubirsti)?

“Millions of years back there must have been some adaptive advantage to knowing that what was communicated was true,” Scile said to me, last time we’d hypothesised this history. “Selection for a mind that could only express that.” “The evolution of trust …” I started to say. “There’s no need for trust, this way,” he interrupted. Chance, struggle, failure, survival, a Darwinian chaos of instinctive grammar, the drives of a big-brained animal in a hard environment, the selection out of traits, had made a race of pure truth-tellers. “This language is miraculous,” Scile had said. I was somehow repulsed by it, in fact. It was astonishing, given what language needs to do, that the Ariekei had survived.
(..)
“We’re insane, to them: we tell the truth with lies.”

//China Miéville, Embassytown

“This is the third universe,” I told Scile. “There’ve been two others before this. Right?” I didn’t know how much civilians knew: this stuff had become my common sense. “Each one was born different. It had its own laws—in the first one they reckon light was about twice as fast as it is here now. Each one was born and grew and got old and collapsed. Three different sometimes. But below all that, or around it, or whatever, there’s only ever been one immer, one always.”
(..)
The immer’s reaches don’t correspond at all to the dimensions of the manchmal, this space where we live. The best we can do is say that the immer underlies or overlies, infuses, is a foundation, is langue of which our actuality is a parole, and so on.
(..)
When immernauts first breached the meniscus of everyday space, among the many phenomena that had astounded them was the fact that, even on their crude instruments, they had received signals from somewhere in the ur-space. Regular and resonant, clear evidence of sentience. They had tried to go to the sources. For a long time they’d thought it was lack of skill, neophyte immersion, that kept bringing their ships to disaster on those searches. Again and again they wrecked, bursting ruinously half-out of the immer into the corporeal manchmal. The Pionier was a casualty of that time, before explorers had understood that the pulses were put out by lighthouses. They were not invitations. What the ships had striven toward were warnings to stay away.

//China Miéville, Embassytown

šovakar pārmaiņas pēc esmu sajūsmā par mammas dīvainajām produktu glabāšanas parašām, nobāžot tos visādos dzīvokļa stūros, kaktos, zem virtuves skapīšiem vai uz tiem pie griestiem, un tad par noglabāto pilnībā aizmirstot, jo šovakar pateicoties šim esmu tikusi pie karstvīna. nu un kas, ka spriežot pēc vēl nenodzisušajiem (no karstvīna pakas, protams, nodzisis) uzrakstiem uz ar to kopā noglabātajām marinēto dārzeņu un mērču burciņām, derīguma termiņš varētu būt beidzies pirms mazliet vairāk nekā gada. garšo gandrīz normāli, tikai ar tādām iesala noskaņām, kas man pat patīk.