this is going to be a silly reblog but i have kind of a fixation on animal qualia and the idea of an animal’s umwelt, so i ended up wondering whether pudding was actually “enjoying” this.
which meant i went and read about snail brains.
here’s the bad news, at least by human standards:
snails do not have anything like a centralized brain. their nervous system is made up of small clusters of neurons (ganglia) that mostly handle very local tasks. they don’t have a cortex, they don’t build big integrated models of the world, and they almost certainly don’t experience things like appreciation, anticipation, or savoring.
pudding is not looking at the sky and thinking it’s beautiful.
snail eyes are basically light sensors - they can tell bright from dark, but not form images. snail “taste” is done through chemoreceptors on their tentacles and around their mouth. those receptors don’t produce flavor the way ours do; they just detect chemical compounds and sort them into “approach,” “ignore,” or “avoid.”
so there’s no evidence that snails enjoy food, or wind, or views, the way mammals do.
and that does sound kind of sad. but then i thought that maybe we are asking the wrong question.
snails do have valence. they detect aversive things (like salt or dryness) and withdraw from them. they detect non-aversive or beneficial conditions (like moisture) and stay extended. when pudding is stretched out like this, it means his nervous system is basically saying “this is safe; nothing is wrong.”
if we define pleasure not as our human experience of dopamine and reward chemicals but instead as “the absence of aversion” - a state where the organism is open to its environment instead of defending itself - then this does count as something positive, even if it’s extremely nothing like human enjoyment.
pudding isn’t appreciating the wind. but his body is registering humidity, safety, and the ability to keep functioning, and that matters to him in the only way his nervous system can make things matter. he does not think “this is great, this is awesome, i love the weather”, because he doesn’t think in the way we do at all, but the neurological action in his ganglion tell his body that he is safe, that the moisture is an acceptable level, that it’s not too dry or windy, and that there’s nothing imminently threatening.
i think a lot of the sadness comes from assuming that a good life has to look like ours: full of enjoyment, meaning, and aesthetic experience. but a snail isn’t missing those things. its world just isn’t built to include them.
snails don’t have a sense of flavor. they don’t even have tastebuds. this seems like a gimme, right? but again that might be asking the wrong question about what “taste” is. biologically speaking, it’s chemoreception. we taste sweet because it indicates high value, high calorie sugar molecules. we taste salty for salt, umami for proteins. so in what way does pudding’s chemoreceptors differ from ours instrumentally? we can say “by our human perspective, pudding can’t experience "preference” or “savoring” or “anticipation of delicious food”“, but from pudding’s perspective we have radically overengineered ourselves for the task at hand. pudding can tell what’s salty, what’s high value, what has the chemicals he needs. the functional outcome is that he can discriminate food souces based on their composition. is that not taste?
so maybe the point isn’t "this is sad because he can’t enjoy it,” but “this is a reminder that minds come in radically different shapes, and value doesn’t have to be rich to be real.”
if you washed any clothes recently this is a friendly reminder to put them on the chair and then on the bed and then on the chair and then on the bed and then on the chair and then
I love animation history and one of the things that always baffled me was how did animators draw the cars in 101 Dalmatians before the advent of computer graphics?
Any rigid solid object is extremely challenging for 2D artists to animate because if one stray line isn’t kept perfectly in check, the object will seem to wobble and shift unnaturally.
Even as early as the mid 80’s Disney was using a technique where they would animate a 3D object and then apply a 2D filter to it. This practice could be applied to any solid object a character interacts with: from lanterns a character is holding, to a book (like in Atlantis), or in the most extreme cases Cybernetic parts (like in Treasure Planet).
But 101 Dalmatians was made WAY before the advent of this technology. So how did they do the Cruella car chase sequence at the end of the film?
The answer is so simple I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me sooner:
They just BUILT the models and painted them white with black outlines 🤣
That was the trick. They’re not actually 2D animated, they’re stop motion. They were physical models painted white and filmed on a white background. The black outlines become the lineart lines and they just xeroxed the frame onto an animation cel and painted it like any other 2D animated frame.
That’s how they did it! Isn’t that amazing? It’s such a simple low tech solution but it looks so cool in the final product.
