Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy’s girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say “you can’t do that because you’re a girl”, they simply didn’t entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn’t like being in the garage much and wasn’t all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.
Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There’s the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there’s the Gender Child.
My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that’s what a Boy Child does.
Growing up, I always felt like adults didn’t actually know me as a person and they weren’t interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they’d already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told “it’s a girl”.
When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don’t like getting gifts that aren’t something I picked out myself), it isn’t actually about the gifts themselves. I don’t even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.
Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy’s girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say “you can’t do that because you’re a girl”, they simply didn’t entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn’t like being in the garage much and wasn’t all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.
Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There’s the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there’s the Gender Child.
My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that’s what a Boy Child does.
Growing up, I always felt like adults didn’t actually know me as a person and they weren’t interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they’d already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told “it’s a girl”.
When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don’t like getting gifts that aren’t something I picked out myself), it isn’t actually about the gifts themselves. I don’t even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.
Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy’s girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say “you can’t do that because you’re a girl”, they simply didn’t entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn’t like being in the garage much and wasn’t all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.
Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There’s the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there’s the Gender Child.
My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that’s what a Boy Child does.
Growing up, I always felt like adults didn’t actually know me as a person and they weren’t interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they’d already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told “it’s a girl”.
When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don’t like getting gifts that aren’t something I picked out myself), it isn’t actually about the gifts themselves. I don’t even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.
For those who don’t know, Elon Musk has recently been directing his assholery towards Wikipedia — calling them ‘Wokepedia’ due to the amount they spend on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, and calling for people to stop giving them money “until they restore balance to their editing authority” —, now is a great time to consider donating to Wikipedia!
is still super wip and the whole thign is almost 2 minutes but now i’ll go sleep
That little “ahahaha~” at the end is so Lamb coded this is perfect✨ you’re inspiring me to make my own Epic animatic since I’ve also been so obsessed with it
is still super wip and the whole thign is almost 2 minutes but now i’ll go sleep
That little “ahahaha~” at the end is so Lamb coded this is perfect✨ you’re inspiring me to make my own Epic animatic since I’ve also been so obsessed with it
is still super wip and the whole thign is almost 2 minutes but now i’ll go sleep
That little “ahahaha~” at the end is so Lamb coded this is perfect✨ you’re inspiring me to make my own Epic animatic since I’ve also been so obsessed with it
is still super wip and the whole thign is almost 2 minutes but now i’ll go sleep
That little “ahahaha~” at the end is so Lamb coded this is perfect✨ you’re inspiring me to make my own Epic animatic since I’ve also been so obsessed with it
is still super wip and the whole thign is almost 2 minutes but now i’ll go sleep
That little “ahahaha~” at the end is so Lamb coded this is perfect✨ you’re inspiring me to make my own Epic animatic since I’ve also been so obsessed with it
When you play COTL and you’re basically the goat and your friend is basically the lamb while playing “How the fuck is this guy old already?? God these fuckers die so fast” “It’s almost like we’re immortal or something…”
One of my favourite questions for figuring out a character’s motivations is which qualities they most fear being assigned to them. Are they afraid (consciously or unconsciously) of being seen as stupid? Ungrateful? Weak? Incompetent? Lazy? Cowardly? Intimidating? Like they actually care? etc.
It’s such a fun way to explore into who they are, why they do what they do, what they don’t do out of fear, and how they might be affected by the events of the story. And I love when characters have negative motivations—trying to avoid something (in this case, being seen a particular way) as much as they’re trying to achieve a goal.
another underappreciated tumblr feature that you dont get on other sites is the queue. i love it when something i thought was funny six months ago and then forgot about a week later crawlts its way out of the processing vortex and i get to see it all over again.
you should queue this post it would be funny and grant me immortality
you motherfuckers put me in the processing vortex
THE TIME LOOP
It’s me boy I’m the tumblr time loop speaking to you inside your queue, listen to me boy
Log off twitter we don’t need her, come with me recycle memes, we’ll have mission status sick in space doo de doo
You need memes boy, your free thought is an illusion
another underappreciated tumblr feature that you dont get on other sites is the queue. i love it when something i thought was funny six months ago and then forgot about a week later crawlts its way out of the processing vortex and i get to see it all over again.
you should queue this post it would be funny and grant me immortality
you motherfuckers put me in the processing vortex
THE TIME LOOP
It’s me boy I’m the tumblr time loop speaking to you inside your queue, listen to me boy
Log off twitter we don’t need her, come with me recycle memes, we’ll have mission status sick in space doo de doo
You need memes boy, your free thought is an illusion
my mum loaned me her iPhone bc my android isn’t working right, and I can’t exit the settings because iPhones apparently no longer have home buttons, and there’s no obvious other way to do it
I did, in fact, try swiping up from the settings, and nothing happened. Presumably I’m Swiping Wrong. It works from other apps, but not from Settings.
I’m increasingly not a fan of this “get rid of every button and only use gestures” thing, because I’m finding that my movements are apparently “wrong”. I remember my friend with essential tremor who did many things on her phone with voice commands. Buttons are easy to use. A click from a button is something that doesn’t need super fine motor control. But I cannot tell you the number of times my current phone thinks I’m swiping up when I intend to swipe down. It happens multiple times a day. The number of times when swipe text (because tapping a screen repeatedly makes the joints on my hands hurt) returns nonsense, because it didn’t like the way I’d moved my finger across the keys.
I’m increasingly of the opinion that touchscreens are not the amazing boon they’re supposed to be. I suspect they’re something that is increasingly going to lock out disabled people, many of whom could manage switches or dials or buttons just fine. This is just one particularly obnoxious example of it.
I was also using an iPad when they added some other new swipe option where I had to remember to swipe up on my iPhone for something, and down on my iPad for the exact same thing. Or vice versa; I don’t remember anymore. I’ve noticed that Apple has this tendency in their design these days where you have to memorise a bunch of secret handshakes to do anything, and if you stop using their devices and come back to them later, it’s going to be completely unintuitive what you’re supposed to do. I’m not a fan.
… I just had to look up how to turn off the phone.
I HAD TO LOOK UP HOW TO TURN OFF THE PHONE.
Can you imagine the kind of user experience FAILURE that is??? Pressing the same button I used to turn it on DIDN’T WORK.
WHY IS APPLE LIKE THIS. How is this supposed to be an improvement over before, when a phone behaved as you would expect, based on the previous twenty-plus years of experience with similar devices?
Blackberry were done dirty by a world who wanted the present to look like the prettiest future sci-fi had to offer.
A few weeks ago I accidentally trapped myself in a Corvette at the car dealership.
I was waiting around for non-Corvette-related reasons and decided to sit in the cool new supercar that they had unlocked on the display floor, got in, shut the door, enjoyed myself for a few minutes, went to get out and couldn’t find a fucking door handle.
Cue about a minute and a half of me frantically trying to figure out how to open the door and weighing if it was worth the embarrassment of googling the dealership number and calling to ask them to come let me out, all while experiencing claustrophobia worse than in any cave I’ve ever been in.
Eventually I googled “how to open corvette door” because that seemed like the more discreet option, and, following instructions, discovered a tiny-ass button that, when pressed, opens the door. It was way too tiny and too easy to press for it to have a mechanical effect on the door, meaning it was probably electronic in nature.
A few days ago I got into my own car, shut the door, and found out the car wouldn’t start because the battery was dead.
The trunk didn’t have a keyhole and required a button to be pressed, which did not work because, again, the battery was dead; I had to fold down the rear seat to access the trunk and worm in and reach through to pull the emergency trunk release (again, less claustrophobic than Suddenly Trapped In Corvette).
Apparently it is now the fashion for any electrical problem in one’s car to come with the Free Second Problem of being trapped in the car (or out of it, as I’ve seen cars with outside handles being clearly electronically assisted).
Hey. You. The American teenager inexplicably reading this. Don’t join the US military. You’re better than that. The military is a bunch of cops. Are they technically diverse and inclusive? On some level, kind of, almost. But their job is to kill people. They kill innocent people every day. They abuse their own members, especially their members who aren’t white cis het middle class Christian men. The US exists through perpetual violence against the global working class, including its own working class. The military is how it carries out a large portion of that violence. You deserve better. You’re better than that. Don’t join.
I used to be you. Trust me when i say that. “It’s just a job” is easy to say until you see drones take off loaded and land empty. “I need the money” is easy to say until you hear about the US betraying and abandoning her allies and you watch an empty lot in the desert fill with tanks that, until a few days ago, had been protecting the people you thought you signed up to protect. “I didn’t have a choice” is a lie you tell yourself when you hear about an AC-130 crew destroying a hospital.
Have you directly supported combat aircraft that have killed people? Have you directly supported logistics aircraft that moved weapons and ammo and troops into combat zones? Have you heard about war crimes committed by the US and realized the war criminals and their tools were able to get where they did because you helped keep an airfield in operation? Have you seen armed white men supervise impoverished Indian and Filipino migrant workers building and maintaining infrastructure on behalf of the US government and Kuwaiti royal family like some sort of 21st century version of plantations in the Antebellum South? Have you seen a team of hurricane “first responders” treat the hurricane response duty like a vacation, drinking and partying every night while the people off the base are dying due to lack of electricity?
I have. I haven’t seen combat, I’ll admit that. But everything i just described, i saw in Kuwait in 2019 and Puerto Rico in 2017. I saw and experienced other things, too, things I’d rather not have seen.
You are morally superior to me. You are a better person than me. Don’t do what i did. If you’re so damn desperate to get killed by doing a government job, join a fire department. I would run into a burning building and relive those nightmares every single night before I’d spend another second in the USAF uniform. You can do better than me. Please do better than me. I’m not superstitious but the Devil is real and he collects souls at US military recruiting stations. Don’t give him yours.
As someone with a lot of financial trauma from barely scraping by for most of my adult life, doing the retail/food service tango, having to seriously make plans for the possibility of being homeless and only managing to get by thanks to some friends who support me in a way my family never did, I do NOT regret staying out of the military. The fact that they can buy young people off like they do is diabolical.
Your boyfriend starts mumbling in Latin in his sleep and it scares the hell out of you but upon translation he’s introducing himself, inquiring on the price of grain, attempting to sell dormice, brainstorming silly Saturnalia gift ideas. In his sleep he somehow becomes a 1st century BC plebeian, of modest means but with a pleasant outlook on mundane life.
NVIDIA announced their 5000 series graphics card which are able to do something they’re calling Neural Faces. Neural Faces is a feature that uses Generative AI to create ‘photorealistic’ faces based off an initial 3D model.
Initial model on the left. ‘Upscaled’ model on the right.
To be clear, that’s supposed to be the same character. And Neural Faces has yassified the hell out of it - it’s smoothed out everything, changes the eyes, nose, lips into something distinctly more vaguely European.
I hate the term, but this is pretty problematic for a number of reasons.
Also NVIDIA have basically created the incel filter.
never say with eleven words what you could with ten. do not use nine words where ten words will do. only ever write sentences that are exactly ten words long.
i swear to god you people really will reblog anything
Don’t bait the hooks and criticise the fish for biting
Teachers when a child shows a single ounce of individuality or creativity:
As a teacher: the big sharpener should have just made her laugh. It’s funny.
But the 70 sharpeners thing is where it gets a bit dicey because yes it was obviously the child joking and having a sharpener collection but on the other you have to think: Why does this child have so many blades on school property?? Obviously you can know the child won’t do anything awful but you don’t know what some other person might do if they get it or if administration that DONT know your child finds it
what nefarious thing is a child going to do with 70 intact sharpeners already at school? sneak into the bathroom where they hid a 2x4 and a tool box to build a macuahuitl?
