the idea of music growing on you is so weird. what’s going on in your brain that makes it go “mmmmm :/” for the first 6 listens and then “ok!! ❤️” on the 7th
a lot of self professed socialists and left wing people have absolutely no consciousness on imperialism and when it comes down to it could easily be convinced of being fascists
seriously when the reaction to people making very realistic observations on how the structure of the global economy is unsustainable, especially for the first world, is “great way to make people support socialism by telling them their lives are gonna be worse under it”…
if you define quality of life and freedom in terms of access to cheap commodities and convenience at the cost of others, you might not be a socialist!!
this is the anti-defamation league’s hate symbol database. it’s massive and includes details about what symbols mean and where you might see them.
i’m a tattoo artist and use this all the time when i see a symbol i don’t recognize—better safe than sorry. it’s saved me from working with white supremacists a few times.
I’m glad to see the arrow cross (last one( there! It originates from Hungary and was used by the nazi party here, but it was banned after WWII. It barely shows up in guides/warnings like this and idk if they still use it but better safe than sorry.
requested by anonymous:
RATING:MOSTY RELIABLE
After searching, ‘92’ does not appear to be a hate symbol. The only reference I can find to it is a reddit post, in reference to the same image as above.The rest are listed in the ADL hate symbol database.
It should be noted that several of these symbols, such as the sonnenrad, are ancient symbols that have been appropriated by Nazis, and therefore may be considered non-racist in specific contexts.
Source: 'Because sonnenrad imagery is used by many cultures around the world, one should not assume that most sonnenrad-like images necessarily denote racism or white supremacy; rather, they should be analyzed carefully in the context in which they appear.’
I have linked to the ADL page for the symbols below.
[ID: 4 arms holding hands. the arms are labeled “Intersex Rights”, “Reproductive Rights”, “Trans Rights”, and “Disability Rights”. The hands are labeled “Bodily Autonomy”
put spikes on your wheelchair’s handles. wrap barbed wire around your cane or crutch so it’ll hurt like a motherfucker if someone kicks or grabs it from under your hand. wear a personal alarm and pull the pin every time someone moves you without your consent, leans on your chair, takes a seat on your rollator, taps your hearing aid, steals your AAC device. scream for help when you’re abducted. wail like you’re in agony when people trip you up or knock into you. take pepper spray to the grocery store. take a knife to the club. leave cards that say “fuck you” under the wipers of inconsiderately parked cars and scratch access codes for bathrooms on the outside of the door. we are not begging for mercy, we’re fighting dirty. we have to.
someone grabbed my wheelchair today and then shouted “ouch! there’s spikes!”
YEAH!! GET FUCKED !!!!!!
I witnesses someone trying to shove a wheelchair user because they felt the wheelchair wasn’t going fast enough, I guess. Not even a second later, this asshole is screaming in pain because the handles had razor wire on them the back of the wheelchair had a sign saying “do not touch.”
NGL, I was laughing and gave the wheelchair user a nod. They just kept on going after a nod and wink at me. Fucking amazing.
When I was in hs, I had to use crutches a few times. Classmates though it was funny to kick them while I’m standing. Soooo I glues nails on the bottom 18 inches or so. Two students screaming and yelling resulted in no one kicking them again.
Do not fuck with mobility devices. They are an extension of our body. If you decide to violate our boundaries, be prepared for retaliation, much like if someone shoved or pushed you. Keep yourself to yourself.
Ik this ruins the point of Get The Assholes When They Least Expect It but
Metal wheelchair and Rose Thorned Crutches
[Image description 1/3:
A photo of a sign saying in all caps:
Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions
/End image description 1/3]
_
[Image description 2-3/3:
Two drawings:
One of a manual wheelchair with spikes on its handles and the outer side of the back and pentagrams on the wheels,
And the other — of a person using forearm crutches wrapped in barbed wire below the handles and with spikes on the outer side above the handles, and also with rose flower decorations on the butts of the handles.
/End image description 2-3/3]
Well, well, well, if it
isn’t the consequences
of my own actions
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
put spikes on your wheelchair’s handles. wrap barbed wire around your cane or crutch so it’ll hurt like a motherfucker if someone kicks or grabs it from under your hand. wear a personal alarm and pull the pin every time someone moves you without your consent, leans on your chair, takes a seat on your rollator, taps your hearing aid, steals your AAC device. scream for help when you’re abducted. wail like you’re in agony when people trip you up or knock into you. take pepper spray to the grocery store. take a knife to the club. leave cards that say “fuck you” under the wipers of inconsiderately parked cars and scratch access codes for bathrooms on the outside of the door. we are not begging for mercy, we’re fighting dirty. we have to.
someone grabbed my wheelchair today and then shouted “ouch! there’s spikes!”
YEAH!! GET FUCKED !!!!!!
I witnesses someone trying to shove a wheelchair user because they felt the wheelchair wasn’t going fast enough, I guess. Not even a second later, this asshole is screaming in pain because the handles had razor wire on them the back of the wheelchair had a sign saying “do not touch.”
NGL, I was laughing and gave the wheelchair user a nod. They just kept on going after a nod and wink at me. Fucking amazing.
When I was in hs, I had to use crutches a few times. Classmates though it was funny to kick them while I’m standing. Soooo I glues nails on the bottom 18 inches or so. Two students screaming and yelling resulted in no one kicking them again.
Do not fuck with mobility devices. They are an extension of our body. If you decide to violate our boundaries, be prepared for retaliation, much like if someone shoved or pushed you. Keep yourself to yourself.
Ik this ruins the point of Get The Assholes When They Least Expect It but
Metal wheelchair and Rose Thorned Crutches
[Image description 1/3:
A photo of a sign saying in all caps:
Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions
/End image description 1/3]
_
[Image description 2-3/3:
Two drawings:
One of a manual wheelchair with spikes on its handles and the outer side of the back and pentagrams on the wheels,
And the other — of a person using forearm crutches wrapped in barbed wire below the handles and with spikes on the outer side above the handles, and also with rose flower decorations on the butts of the handles.
/End image description 2-3/3]
Well, well, well, if it
isn’t the consequences
of my own actions
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
put spikes on your wheelchair’s handles. wrap barbed wire around your cane or crutch so it’ll hurt like a motherfucker if someone kicks or grabs it from under your hand. wear a personal alarm and pull the pin every time someone moves you without your consent, leans on your chair, takes a seat on your rollator, taps your hearing aid, steals your AAC device. scream for help when you’re abducted. wail like you’re in agony when people trip you up or knock into you. take pepper spray to the grocery store. take a knife to the club. leave cards that say “fuck you” under the wipers of inconsiderately parked cars and scratch access codes for bathrooms on the outside of the door. we are not begging for mercy, we’re fighting dirty. we have to.
someone grabbed my wheelchair today and then shouted “ouch! there’s spikes!”
YEAH!! GET FUCKED !!!!!!
I witnesses someone trying to shove a wheelchair user because they felt the wheelchair wasn’t going fast enough, I guess. Not even a second later, this asshole is screaming in pain because the handles had razor wire on them the back of the wheelchair had a sign saying “do not touch.”
NGL, I was laughing and gave the wheelchair user a nod. They just kept on going after a nod and wink at me. Fucking amazing.
When I was in hs, I had to use crutches a few times. Classmates though it was funny to kick them while I’m standing. Soooo I glues nails on the bottom 18 inches or so. Two students screaming and yelling resulted in no one kicking them again.
Do not fuck with mobility devices. They are an extension of our body. If you decide to violate our boundaries, be prepared for retaliation, much like if someone shoved or pushed you. Keep yourself to yourself.
Ik this ruins the point of Get The Assholes When They Least Expect It but
Metal wheelchair and Rose Thorned Crutches
[Image description 1/3:
A photo of a sign saying in all caps:
Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions
/End image description 1/3]
_
[Image description 2-3/3:
Two drawings:
One of a manual wheelchair with spikes on its handles and the outer side of the back and pentagrams on the wheels,
And the other — of a person using forearm crutches wrapped in barbed wire below the handles and with spikes on the outer side above the handles, and also with rose flower decorations on the butts of the handles.
/End image description 2-3/3]
Well, well, well, if it
isn’t the consequences
of my own actions
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
I don’t know how many of my followers are furries but we just lost one of ours.
He died because the medical industry in the US refused to help. He was murdered in a million little ways, with a million automated systems.
He was on bluesky no more than five hours ago, now he’s gone.
Dragoneer ran FurAffinity, which is more or less the furry art site. It looks like its’ from the early aughts, has no native pdf support, and has zero discoverability or algorithmic function. It’s home to me, it’s always been home.
No matter how often I moved or how often my life radically changed, there was FA. I met my husband on the forums. Through the majority of its’ life, Dragoneer kept it running. He never sold us out, never tried to keep up with trends. It’s a community.
And there is something bitter about losing someone who was key to keeping one of the relics of the internet before corporations took over.
A master to his action-hero trainee says, “Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind’s eye. Come. We will remedy this.”
And then the master paints his trainee’s fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.
Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he’s never noticed before. He’s staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.
There’s a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He’s sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master’s nails are flawless tech art.
He’s reached his final assessment and it’s a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master’s nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.
Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master’s robe.
Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind’s eye. He senses the master’s attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.
It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view–5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.
The master smiles. “You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you.”
The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.
This would be kickass and now I wanna see it
Also this is why you need artists writing movies and not dumb ass ai. Give ai to design engineers. Leave the artists alone. They’ll both give you gold
A master to his action-hero trainee says, “Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind’s eye. Come. We will remedy this.”
And then the master paints his trainee’s fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.
Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he’s never noticed before. He’s staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.
There’s a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He’s sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master’s nails are flawless tech art.
He’s reached his final assessment and it’s a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master’s nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.
Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master’s robe.
Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind’s eye. He senses the master’s attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.
It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view–5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.
The master smiles. “You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you.”
The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.
This would be kickass and now I wanna see it
Also this is why you need artists writing movies and not dumb ass ai. Give ai to design engineers. Leave the artists alone. They’ll both give you gold
A master to his action-hero trainee says, “Your movements are sloppy. You lack awareness of your body when you fight. Your hands move and yet you do not hold them in your mind’s eye. Come. We will remedy this.”
And then the master paints his trainee’s fingernails and orders the trainee to complete a series of complicated tasks without smudging the nail polish.
Trainee grumbles that this is stupid when the first set of tasks is just cleaning the dojo. Within two minutes he reaches for the dustpan and knocks the edge of his pinky nail against it in a way he’s never noticed before. He’s staring at the baby blue smudge and suddenly he understands things differently.
There’s a montage of days passing as he fetches water, chops wood, hoes crops, washes clothes. His nails are a different color during each cut. He’s sprinting up the mountain with a fresh wet pedicure and the master is nodding in approval. The master’s nails are flawless tech art.
He’s reached his final assessment and it’s a sparing match against his master. The air smells of acetone. His and the master’s nails are all freshly painted. He must land a blow on the master with his mani and pedi fully intact.
Suns and moons pass. Streak in the ring finger. Smudge on the pinky. A full-handed block at the cost of three nails of paint. A hit on his master, and he hoots in delight until the master points out the unguarded toe whose polish is now streaked across the master’s robe.
Days pass in frustration and exhaustion. By day 40, he has every digit of his acutely in his mind’s eye. He senses the master’s attack, ducks, dodges, all fingers all toes all himself, aware, and he strikes with his wooden sword.
It connects with the master. The master pauses. The trainee raises his left hand into view–5 digits of flawless sunflower yellow. His left foot. His right foot. And finally his right hand, raised in triumph.
The master smiles. “You have passed. I have just one more technique to teach you.”
The technique is how to draw little flowers into the nail art. So really this one is optional.
This would be kickass and now I wanna see it
Also this is why you need artists writing movies and not dumb ass ai. Give ai to design engineers. Leave the artists alone. They’ll both give you gold
construction workers were a superstitious organization who thought orange objects could ward off vehicles, or even control people.
Legend has it their most important ritual was destroying a section of a road then smoking cigarettes around it for hours on end. Experts say this was to bless the area
construction workers were a superstitious organization who thought orange objects could ward off vehicles, or even control people.
Legend has it their most important ritual was destroying a section of a road then smoking cigarettes around it for hours on end. Experts say this was to bless the area
absolutely losing my mind that a bunch of nimby assholes spent $500k to build a sandcastle that was promptly wiped away
ted i really could not disagree more this is far from catastrophic. i am ensconced.
literally selling sand to people who live on the beach. some people’s hustle and grift game cannot be overstated. world class shit right here
i love tumblr but i hate that we have been conditioned to think you can’t add some of the most insightful shit you’ve ever seen to absolute shitposts. please by all means reblog my posts with this kind of context because it’s so important. excellent points here.
I love calling them nimbys omg. Watch them be like “bUt ThAt’S a SluUuUuR”
