other social media websites im on are like. hawk tuah girl and mr beast are collabing for a festables event. and tumblr is like. here are my top 10 favorite ants
had a dream last night that i was in a church and there were angel wings pinned to the walls. i touched a pair and realised then that they weren’t made of feathers, but of words - millions of tiny letters overlapping in an imitation of flight, like starling murmurations. when i withdrew my hands the letters had been burned into my skin. they were far too small to read with my naked eyes, but knew exactly what they said somehow, nonetheless.
Do you ever think about how actually insane roadside billboards are? Like driving a car is incredibly dangerous and there are a ton of laws meant to keep people focused on driving and not other distractions. But billboards are fine. It’s okay to look away from the road if you’re looking at an ad. That’s fucked
please god stop talking about diets and weight loss in front of kids. especially if those kids are girls. and especially if you’re someone those kids look up to. but really just stop talking about about diets and weight loss when children are in earshot at all. I promise you you’re doing far more harm than good.
“People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means ‘mean.’ It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it.”
- Marco, Book #30: The Reunion, pg. 71 (by K.A. Applegate)
Among the five kids in the family, Vlastislava is the most bored one. The kits and Belomor can keep themselves busy, Byuana follows the adults around, and Vlastislava? She really needs playmates.
So when everyone in the cult is busy with their tasks, Aym, Baal and Ratau are there to take the responsibility of playing with Vlastya.
And, of course, many of her games are a little violent. She’s seen and heard more things from her bishop family than she probably should have.
You know that post that was going around like a year ago. That said something like ‘hey you don’t need to wear any makeup’ and people kept commenting shit like 'yeah just a little eyeliner is enough’. This is how this post feels to me
[Image ID: Picture from US Vice President debate on Oct 1, 2024. Moderator Margaret Brennan says: Just to clarify, Springfield’s Haitian migrants have legal status. Candidate JD Vance says: The rules were you guys weren’t going to fact check! /End ID]
it is genuinely bewildering to me that adult human beings do not know this but if you are mean to people they will not like you. like tbh they are probably also not going to like you if you are mean to other people but they are definitely not going to like you if you are mean to them. it doesn’t matter if you are funny or if you can use r/aita rules to prove that you are in the right. people simply do not enjoy being treated like shit.
I might have already reblogged this with this same comment but:
no matter who you are, everyone believes they’re an essentially decent person and wants to be liked by everyone they meet and any attempt at denying or refuting that is coming from a point of instinctive defensiveness against the fact that not everyone actually will.
Every cool cucumber or screeching wackaloon who claims not to care or to welcome others’ negative opinions of them is overcompensating for their own inability to be universally beloved for who they are. It’s a fear reaction. You don’t want your tribe to cast you out into the dark by yourself. As up-jumped shit-slinging apes, it’s practically genetic. Being alone means being in constant danger. So when somebody gets mad at you, you strike back in perceived self defense, whether it’s verbally or physically or fucking their mom or voting to oppress them or invading their country and massacring them, YOU are always right because YOU are, in your heart, a Good Person.
Private detectives useless as hell all I do is sit behind a desk dramatically lit in black and white stripes by my half open blinds and smoke cigars. Living the dream
#privatedetective #detectivelife #i have 19 unsolved cases
( 10,552 notes )
🎷 aceofspades Follow
prohibition hitting hard…making some bathtup gin tonight. DM for recipe
🎷aceofspades Follow
hopital
( 65 notes )
🔘 deactivated-341925 Follow
Clara Bow is 20??!!!
🔘 deactivated-341925 Follow
SHE SHOULD BE AT THE SPEAKEASY
( 979 notes )
🎙 fancy-nancyboy Follow
Smuggling some moonshine in my coat oh boy I sure do hope no big scary prohibition officer comes andbpins me and handcuffs me hahha oh nooo that would suck
#wink wink
( 4,208 notes )
🍸 gladragz Follow
my thirsty ass could NEVER be a bootlegger!!!!
( 7 notes )
🚬 runrummer Follow
Anyone else think some of those jc leyendecker drawings are kind of yaoi ….
Everyone talks about the wonderbread guy but nobody talks about how the wonderbread isn’t necessarily the fetish object - it’s supposed to symbolize like overcommodification or something. Like wonderbread is such a synthetic suburban concoction it implies wherever it is, that area has become gentrified and mown over by capitalism and this like caricature of commodification. That’s why all the other pics the dude commissions are women (typically white and blonde) chopping down forests and stuff. The fetish isn’t the bread. The fetish is this extreme caricature of earth and culture being consumed by the unstoppable force of like. Sterile Kroger marketability and commerce. That’s why the women are always BUYING the bread and not like, fucking it. Its not about the loaves people. It’s about Karen Bad End TF.
Thank you for the additional information!! And also this is so much more succinct than my rant
To be completely fair to the folks who focus on the bread thing, the fact of it being bread is not purely incidental to its role as a class signifier. If you look at the guy’s broader patronage, yes, there’s commissioned art of blonde white women personally cutting down rain forests with chainsaws in order to build giant smoke-spewing factories, but the thing that these factories are manufacturing is… sandwiches. Many of his commissioned pieces include dialogue explicitly stating that this is the case. Leaving aside the implications of the fact that these pieces are apparently situated in a world in which a “sandwich factory” is a thing that exists, that this whole complicated edifice of eroticised environmental destruction ultimately loops back around to making sandwiches suggests there’s more to it than Wonderbread just happening to be a convenient signifier of gentrification.
So, on the one hand he kinks on women who are styled to indicate that they’re extremely wealthy and powerful (Able to buy up and pave over land to open giant polluting factories, I think examples I’ve seen will have them in sharp power suits and diamond jewelry just going to the grocery store, etc), but on the other hand, the central crux of it all is women making sandwiches; one of the go-to shibboleths of 21st-century not-so-ironic sexism.
I don’t think I dare to pull on the thread of that contradiction any harder.
She’s going to make you a fucking sandwich whether you like it or not.
for a satire news site they hit the nail on the head
Holy fuck
Something I learned in my brief experience with a journalism class is that The Onion is a prime example of truly successful satire.
All the times they “hit the nail on the head”, they are in fact achieving satire’s ultimate goal. To examine something free of bias, in a way that people are less likely to be sensitive toward a harsh reality.
Under the frame of a joke. Don’t discredit the work of the people behind The Onion just because they make you laugh. They know what they’re doing. And what they’re doing is important. They’re forcing people to rethink the way our system works without wasting the energy on big explanations, and it’s working.
when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.
we would find out later i had burned off my entire cornea - about 65% of my eye. my doctor told me it is the organ with the highest concentration of nerve endings - i was in an amount of pain that can’t be spoken.
and i was blind. for the first time in my life, i was totally blind. i kept thinking about reading, about writing. weirdly, just once, about driving. we had no idea if i would ever see again. just like that - my entire life was different.
it is a strange place to reference for a soft memory, to begin here.
my siblings were taking excellent care of me, but there was a moment in the hospital where, just through bad luck and timing - both of them had to step away for a moment. i was crying at that point; not emotionally. for 3 days after this i would still be crying, my tears, like a mermaid’s, a frothy pink with blood.
my brother worried about leaving me. he had another, just-as-bad emergency.
“i got her,” someone said. “don’t worry.”
a soft hand held mine, and then she started talking.
her name was jess. she has a wife named clyde. they live a few blocks up the street. clyde fell down, but the x-rays seem to be coming back better than expected. jess says she’s got long dark hair and “more wrinkles than an elephant”. jess describes every chair in the room and every person. she talks about her two kids and her cats and her favorite memories from college.
a doctor came. i had to switch to a different waiting room. i tried to stand up to follow the voice - i found jess’s hand, following me. she didn’t let go. she kept talking the whole way: lamp to your left, just a few more steps, okay to your right is the ugliest painting, good, now a little more walking straight, you got it baby
in the new silence of the next room she sat me down and called my brother for me, telling him where we’d gone to. and she stayed there for a bit, just chatting, her voice echoing in the eerie quiet. gently describing the room to me. and then someone was rude. from the sound of the voice, a kid, i think.
“why is she crying?”
“she just lost her vision,” jess said. “she can’t see.”
“oh.” said the kid. “that’s scary.”
the kid tells me he is here because he has peas stuck up his nose. that makes me laugh, his mom (?) groans. she tells me about the kid (he’s 6, he likes paw patrol and eating cheese), about herself, about moving from cali.
jess says she’s sorry, but she has to leave now, she’s gotta go check on her wife.
“don’t worry,” says the mom. “i got her.” and then i felt her hand press into mine.
for hours like that: i am taken care of by strangers. each person just talking with whatever comes to their head - not for any reward or celebrity or real reason, i guess. just because i am scared and alone and in the hospital and blinded and need to be distracted. not everyone even got told the story - they would just pick up in the silence with - oh by the way the television is playing HGTV - do you like that kind of a thing?yeah, me too, but could never quite get into those open-floor plans, i’ll tell you -
by the time my brother is able to come back, the room is buzzing. we talk to each other like old friends, laughing, cracking jokes about if you don’t like hospital food wait until you get on an airplane and can’t believe i’m up past two in the morning what a party animal i’m becoming. i am holding the hands of someone named drew, who likes my crow tattoo and making crochet snails.
there are many dark moments full of pain in this world. this - in the low of absolute-dark, absolute-pain: people find a way to paint in it anyway. the color splash of their voices: this triumphant, radiating kindness of - let’s be here together, let me help you, let’s keep going.
i never saw their faces. i can’t remember many of their names. but i think about them often, and the way we all took a deep breath - and did something gentle amongst the pain.
Most of us could probably stand to benefit from reading this. I did. It’s really lovely.
me: cereal box mascots tend to be especially fuckable because they are a subset of mainstream cartoon characters designed specifically to market pleasurable physical sensory experiences
the mantis shrimp that i have cybernetically enhanced to perceive human colors: okay i think im starting to “get” rothko
ive been spending too much time on twitter lately and occasionally there’ll be these threads along the lines of ‘what do you think is the most important movie moment of the twenty first century’ and someone will add a gif of that shot of all the characters running into battle in Avengers Endgame and its like please im begging you please there are so many genres of movie in the world
this is how i tell my sister relevant political news are you happy. shes 2 years older then me and i just had to walk into her room and go THEY SHOT TRUMP AGAIN
it all sorta sneaks up on you doesn’t it. the professionalism of it all. one day it’s 2012 and you’re posting silly video edits on tumblr dot com and the next it’s 2024, you’re making enough money off streaming to live alone and you have an accountant and you have to answer various business related emails. and also you’re posting silly video edits on tumblr dot com
ive said this before but it was on my old blog so I’m saying it again
dehumanizing abusers is not effective at doing anything other than make people think they’re ontologically incapable of violence
it’s also creating a class of people who you can abuse while telling yourself that you’re Good and Moral and Not an Abuser.
if you dehumanize the caught abusers then the uncaught abusers will use their humanity as proof of innocence
if you dehumanize the hypothetical abusers you create incentives for false accusations as a means of dehumanization whenever dehumanization is desired for other reasons
some time last year in a daze i signed up to be a community notes contributor on twitter, and i have not used this ability once in any meaningful sense, but i do appreciate that it sometimes provides me with exclusive advance previews of muppet discourse
ALT
ALT
ALT
