Tumgik
#and no I'm not gonna be polite about this
pixeljade: #it IS very much a complex issue and I feel like saying that has been pissing off a lot of folks on both sides #one fact i would add to the table is that the current actions against palestine DO constitute a genocide by definition #its a word i hear pro-Israel people get very upset by because they think it is inherently comparing this to the holocaust #but its not. some people DO and thats its own discussion. but calling it a “genocide” is simply accurate and undeniable
Speaking as someone who was that pro-Israel person in her teens and very early 20s, the reactions you're describing are 800% cognitive dissonance freak outs. Most of these people, like me, received either directly or indirectly from their Elders in the Jewish community a very trauma-induced and deeply emotional information about the history of this situation, which boils down to: "They tried to kill us all once and they didn't now we finally have returned to the Promised Land, the only place we have to shield ourselves against It Happening Again. Israel's detractors hate that Jews can defend themselves now, and if any of them, including the Palestinians, were to have their way, they'd see us all dead. We must defend ourselves at all costs, and not let anyone ever put us in existential danger as a people ever again."
And then to have some rando 19 year old who knows jack shit about your or your community or your community's trauma to get up in your face and start screaming at you about genocide? It's only going to trigger that intergenerational trauma, and cause the party being screamed at to dig deeper into their defensive, cognitive-dissonance fueled response. Which, if we were to boil that response down to a thought process, looks like "This person hates me and all Jews. They think we're a hive mind who don't deserve to live. Thank G-d for Israel."
What's complex, is that not everything in that trauma response is wrong, and not everything the dumbass 19 yo who has no interest in unpacking their own learned anti-Semitism was wrong.
Israel's actions towards Palestinian Arabs since 1948 does fit several definitions of genocide and/or ethnic cleansing. And many of the Westerners who scream about it the loudest are fairly openly anti-Semitic.
Now, as someone with big Holocaust intergenerational trauma in her family, I am sympathetic to the Jewish kid in this scenario. But cognitive dissonance is just that: the domain of a child. Adults understand that cognitive dissonance is a little voice in our head telling us "Hey comrade our discomfort with this is a little much. Maybe this is a learning opportunity?"
I mean, that's what I did. But it's difficult. Its uncomfortable, and that scares people. It's much easier to believe that "They call it the Naqba because they hate us and think our survival and access to national self-determination is a disaster,"* than it is to understand that "They call it the Naqba because it was the near total dispossession and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arab populations from their generational homes and properties."
And again, everything I'm saying here is a result of my journey from a hardcore Zionist-in-the-contemporary-sense child (though always left in terms of domestic US Politics), to a grown Holocaust historian who understands that Israel is no better and no worse than all the other nation states (for new readers, I understand the nation-state as a political entity, the logical end point of which is genocide and/or ethnic cleansing), and openly criticizes it on those grounds.
*A rabbi in a youth group I belonged to told me this almost verbatim when I was 15. And when you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them.
102 notes · View notes
hwanchaesong · 2 days
Text
Ephemeral (Second Chances) Preview
Tumblr media
pairing: Jungwon X F!Reader
synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.
word count: tba
genre & warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, warnings tba
a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷
Tumblr media
"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lillies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.
A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.
"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.
"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile on the process.
It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.
You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering of some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.
What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.
Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.
"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.
"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"
"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.
"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.
"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.
He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.
Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?
Not. Fucking. Tolerable.
"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.
That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.
You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.
This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.
"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."
You craned your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.
You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.
Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.
Tumblr media
taglist
@lilyuwon @ramenoil
98 notes · View notes
max1461 · 2 days
Text
I had a dream last night that I ran for president. In the Democratic primary I won California, Alaska, "Washington" (which was directly north of California) and another state whose name I don't remember because it doesn't actually exist, but it was east of Washington along California's northern border (you have to imagine the two of them shaped approximately like triangles, making up an approximate square directly to CA's north).
There was a brief moment when I was in the lead. I knew it wouldn't last, but I remember capitalizing on the opportunity to proudly tell my parents "I'm the front-runner in the race for president of the United States!". Again, this was supposedly the primary, but I recall the electoral map showing blue for the establishment Democrat, red for the Republican candidate (Trump I think), and yellow for me. So maybe it was the national election; I think this is just one of those dream inconsistencies.
Anyway, for whatever reason me and most of my campaign staff were down in a cave. We didn't have internet access anymore, so I was relying on my campaign manager (who was above ground) to clue me in to what was going on. We were in an upper chamber of the cave, and there had been some kind of near-disaster in a lower chamber where the fire department had to come and rescue a bunch of people who were trapped. I don't remember if any of them were part of my campaign staff. Anyway, as the establishment Democrat took the lead, I remember talking on the phone—a big, thick, 90s-style cellphone—with my campaign manager about what I should do. Should I give some sort of statement to the press about it? Should I congratulate the winner on Twitter? He said no, no, don't worry about it; everyone knows you're down in a cave and don't have service, so they can't possibly expect that.
I have no idea why we were in a cave, if it was intentional or we were stuck there. I guess we were just in a cave!
Anyway, then disaster struck! One of my staffers found a bunch of people in need of rescue in our (upper) chamber of the cave! Now, this wasn't as dire as the earlier rescue. These people were much easier to get to. They were like, sort of hanging upside-down from a horizontally suspended rope, like clothes on a clothes line, basically. I don't know how they got that way but they were in a dire state from hanging upside-down for some long. Some of my staffers insisted they could rescue the people themselves (I think they were worried that calling in the fire department again would be viewed as wasteful and damage my campaign). They managed to get some of the people down from the clothes line. I asked my campaign manager what to do (I was still on the phone with him) and he was like "no, call the fire department!". So he put me through to the fire department and I told them what was going on.
You have to understand throughout these events that I'm like, me. I have no idea how to run an electoral campaign, I'm 100% relying on my campaign manager for every cue, and I'm really nervous about figuring out the proper etiquette for everything. When I was asking him about whether I should congratulate the winner on Twitter you have to imagine it in this sort of tone. Like, first day on the job, nervous "I'm following your lead here" energy. And when I get on the phone with the fire department I'm super awkward (I've never called them before!) and as I'm explaining the situation I'm thinking like "good, good, that was normal, I sound normal to the fire department right now".
Anyway then they come down into the cave and start rescuing people. I get back on the phone with my campaign manager and he tells me confidently "look, here's what we do: on Monday you're gonna give a press conference. You'll announce that your bid for the presidency is over, congratulate the winners, and reiterate your policy positions." I don't remember what else he said about it, but basically this was the most graceful way to end the campaign and keep my political career strong. I was a popular candidate with lots of youth support and energy behind me, so it was gonna be easy to parley that into later success. Now, I didn't want a further political career—this campaign was 100% a one-off—but I agreed the press conference would be a good idea. Unfortunately that would mean I had to write a speech by Monday, which was annoying.
Anyway, the establishment Democrat won in the end, and turns out it was Obama.
Then I woke up.
39 notes · View notes
winniethewife · 3 days
Text
But I'm gonna love you anyhow
Tumblr media
(Nathan Bateman x F!reader)
A/N: Inspired by a Prompt by @gingersforeverbox
Words:679
“So that's the new girl that he’s dating?”
“They’ve apparently been going out in secret for months”
“She looks…” Like what a whore? A Bitch? A floozy? A Gold digger? She almost dares them to finish the sentence as they talk behind her back. “Nice.” Ugh that was worse than an insult. She could do without all these fake niceties that this kind of crowd always seems to rely on. She took the champagne flute from one of the servers with a polite smile. She sips at it and looks around for a moment, trying to spot Nathan in the crowded room. She understood the importance of going to these charity galas occasionally to keep him in good graces with the public eye, but after several months of spending all their time together out in his home in Alaska, all these people was almost overwhelming. She didn’t belong here, among the upper crust, with the press outside hoping for a glimpse, she felt out of place, even if she was perfectly dressed and styled like every other person in the room.
She finally spotted Nathan across the room, he looked nice in a suit, he was so often dressed in casual lounge wear that she had honestly been shocked that he even owned one. She watches as Nathan laughs at something the guy he was talking to said, she knew him well enough to know that was a fake laugh, the way the smile didn’t reach his eyes, it was obvious to her, but to no one else. She smiled slightly at the thought, the idea that of all the people in the room, she was the only one who truly knew him. As she watched him he eventually looked over at her, a genuine smile crosses his face. He turns to the people he was talking to and appears to dismiss himself before walking over to her.
“You look amazing Honey. How am I so lucky to have you?” He asks cheekily while wrapping an arm around her waist, she feels the nerves and irritation from the evening wash away as she feels his hand gripping her side firmly, with a gentle possession.
“I don’t know, you’re kind of an asshole, I’m not sure why I stick around.” She teases as she leans into him. He looks down at her resting her head in the crook of his arm with mock offence.
“Oh my darling why- Why would you say such a thing?” He couldn’t keep up the fake hurt tone bursting in to laughter midsentence. “No, no you’re right. I deserve that no doubt. But I will say, you make me want to be better, but only for you. Fuck the others.” He kisses the top of her head before looking out on the party. As He scans the room he holds her close, and as he holds her she can’t help but feel emotions surging in her chest, to hear something so sentimental from Nathan was unusual, but she liked it. The Judgement of the others in the room was far from her mind now, the feeling of outsiderhood vanished. She could belong anywhere as long as he was with her. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. As long as he was with her, she could be anywhere, do anything, and be anyone. The options were unlimited.
"I don’t think I want you to change. I think that's what I love about you...you're just...you." She says with a smile and a turn, her back against his chest now, his arms still around her. Nathan chuckled. He was really the luckiest guy in the room. There was so much she didn’t know about him, but she was going to love him anyhow. And that was more than he could ever hope for. He leans down to whisper in her ear.
“I’ve heard there's some oddly phallic ice sculptures in the other room…wanna check them out?” He mutters. She laughs. There’s not a thing about him that she would change.
“I would love to see that.”
~
Masterlist
Tags: @burymesanti @silvernight-m @faretheeoscar @queerponcho
31 notes · View notes
dmbakura · 7 hours
Text
as someone who became interested in Stellar Blade when its 2022 trailer dropped (where its name was changed from Project Eve) watching the lead up to the game become hijacked by the incel squad claiming it was gonna be the downfall of modern gaming because it brought back sexy female protagonists, to the subsequent "censorship" (it is not censorship) debacle that saw most of the same squad turning on the game, and the entire conversation surrounding the game in general, has been maybe the funniest, most bewildering thing to witness.
on one hand you have the incel gooners trying to use the game as a political mouthpiece to push a certain agenda, usually being misogynistic or bigoted in other ways in the process. also mixed in are misguided critiques of certain double standards (example, regarding bg3 and how it handles sexual content vs stellar blade and its fanservice) and just overall a lack of actual care for the game outside of using it as a bludgeoning tool in their dumb culture war.
on the other hand you have people who only know this game through the conversation the incel gooners have started and think the game is some hentai coomer simulator with no other substance. I believe this group is mostly well intentioned, but at the same time are allowing the incel gooners to be the authority on the game and aren't doing any actual research of their own. I have seen so many people gobsmacked that stellar blade has actual polished gameplay and that the sexy costumes/boob jiggle aren't at all representative of the game as a whole. there's definitely some good faith critiques of the character design mixed in here, but also please stop allowing the gooners to shape your perception of the game and letting them dominate the conversation.
and finally you have people like me who have ACTUALLY PLAYED the game (in my case I'm 22 hours in so I haven't finished it yet) and know what the game is actually about. it's a highly polished single player action game, with no microtransactions, on console (which is a HUGE deal in the Korean market, which is dominated by mobile games) and it's overall just a really fun experience. the sexy stuff you can take or leave, there's a bunch of costumes that cover her up if you don't like the skimpiness, but aside from the blatant fanservice with Eve, it's just about the most sexless game I've played in a while. seriously, there's not even romantic hints, aside from a female shopkeeper hitting on Eve.
anyways, it's just interesting (and borderline incomprehensible) what the conversation surrounding this game has become lol
22 notes · View notes
moonspirit · 2 days
Note
what would the alliance be doing if they hadn’t entered politics? like careers and hobbies and stuff like that
Hi again!
Oh welp tho, I haven't thought too much about this xD
But okay let's see. If we go off the last headcanons, then maybe...
Armin would definitely enjoy sailing the seas. Learning, discovering, exploring. He'd understand people and bring new understanding to them too. Considering his never ending curiosity and hunger for learning new things, it'd be nice for him to go places, seeing it all until his eyes are full to the brim with sparks.
Annie, uh... Listen, not that I think she's not going to be doing anything on her own, but I think she'll just rest for a good long while xD She was exhausted and fed up well before the end of the Rumbling, just give her a nice bed, some furballs, plenty of cuddling opportunities and leave her alone.
Tho I do see her travelling with Armin and getting the chance to experience the world and all the wonderful things in it in a way she was never able to in her life before.
Also maybe later on she ends up starting a martial arts school for small kids because they think she's awesome and won't stop asking her to teach them.
Pieck? I honestly think she's going to be doing it all. The way I often characterize Pieck, she's eccentric and carefree on the outside for the most part. Perhaps today she's going to star as the lead actress in a silent movie, and tomorrow she's going to be on that high stakes bake-off for the neighbourhood. You cannot tell me she's not doing 826353 things at once and getting great sleep and keeping her head witty and flirty and sharp all at the same time. She's Pieck. She's gonna be living the best life.
Jean - oh boi. Okay. He's gonna do fancy things like wine and dine with important people, and then come home and listen to music and contemplate the purpose of life and existence as his very expensive small dog refuses his affections.
He will then write a haiku and send it to Armin who will not understand a single fucking word of his nonsense.
Reiner - He's good at plumbing. And electricity. And leaky roofs. Plus firewood chopping and kitchen fires and other daily accidents that need fixing. Don't ask me why, he's just a great handyman. Useful big brother. He's very happy like that.
Connie - This boy is gonna be running a kitchen! A restaurant! And he's gonna be fucking great at it! It started out as a small venture, just something to keep him busy and make ends meet but then wooaahh oh waaaa there's a lot of customers?! They're all there to hear him singing as he cooks? They love the food?! He's a boss now?! But he still serves customers because he's a nice boy like that.
Mikasa Ackerman - Swimming teacher. Masterclass on how to cross oceans carrying a head or two as baggage.
I'm going to hell for this.
Levi Ackerman - The man has a tea shop. What the fuck more do you want? Tch.
Falco and Gabi - They're too young to be doing any one thing - let them live and plant trees and run around and grow up nicely.
20 notes · View notes
frostyhelltime · 9 hours
Note
Hi again! I would love if you could write possesive or jealous Rosie. Whichever you prefer and feel works best. Thank you in advance!
A/N: I love our prim and proper Overlord of Cannibal Town! Hope you enjoy! ❤️
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Jealous/Possessive Rosie with GN!Reader
Rosie in general is very good at maintaining her composure. After all she barely even flinched when the angel's head was taken out and thrown on the table during the Overlords meeting.
It takes a lot to get her to break that composure. Normally, anyway.
But it is possible, and it's certainly much easier when it comes to you.
There are the small times it slips through, such as when someone happened to be hitting on you while waiting for her.
She'll cheerfully call your name, even using pet names such as dear or darling while she wraps her arm around yours, very clearly trying to send a message.
To anyone else if would just seem like a show of affection. But you knew Rosie enough to know this was her way of marking her territory in a way the doesn't appear to break her composure to the general public.
But you keep that secret of hers.
One of many reasons she loves you.
Now if someone has the audacity to hit on you even after you said no, or worse, in her territory....that composure breaks just a little more obviously to the naked eye.
"Oh darlin' you're gonna have to try this newest batch of lady fingers! I think I really outdid myself this time!" Rosie's voice is all cheer and smiles as she brings out the newest thing she's made.
You of course, trust her cooking implicitly and graciously take one before taking a bite.
"Woah! It's good. Has a kick to it, but good." You nod, looking it over as if trying to figure out what the flavor was.
"Oh excellent! I wanted to surprise Al since he's finally back in town so I've been messing around with some Cajun flavors! I think I really got it on this one!" She's got such a chipper edge to her voice because she's happy she succeeded, and you can't help but smile. Rosie was always so sweet, sometimes she felt like a beacon of light in hell just for you, and from the way her citizens talked about her, you would say they agree too.
"Oh he's gonna love it, I'm sure." You smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek, which just further keeps her energy up.
"I'm gonna go ahead and bring them out so I can put them on display and start selling 'em." Rosie smiles, giddy as she leans over and presses her lips to yours in a chaste and sweet kiss.
When she comes back though you seem visibly distressed, another person's hands even on you. She quickly puts down what item was in her hand and makes a beeline to the two of you. She is still smiling but there's a heat to her eyes that is dangerous, and a slight venom in her words.
"May I ask what you're doing?" She cocks her head to the side politely, giving them a chance to apologize and learn some manners.
"Just trying to convince a sweet thing to take a chance on me."
Ah. Well. She tried.
"I think you should leave." Rosie says coldly, although she is still smiling politely.
"What? No. I'm sure I can convince them."
You are clearly not anywhere close to considering going anywhere with this person. At the person's statement Rosie just laughs, placing a hand over her chest as if she had just heard the funniest joke.
"I was not asking, dear."
The man stills a moment from how ice cold her voice is now, and he looks at her as if trying to size her up. But before he can decide what to do she's speaking again.
"If you would like to continue to overstay your welcome, I should have you know that as their Overlord, I take care of all of my souls here in Cannibal Town very diligently...and I've never been one to let them...go hungry." Her smile is still there, polite, as if she were simply asking him if he needed help with anything today. Her threat is indirect but the message is received loud and clear and they let you go, quickly making their way out.
Once they're gone Rosie relaxes, shoulders no longer tense. She turns to you, peppering your face with kisses a moment, to which you just laugh in delighted joy.
"I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier they were harassing you."
But you quickly comfort her and tell her she came just in time. She looks worried for a split second, as if trying to figure out if you're actually okay, when you speak up.
"Why don't we go visit the hotel? Deliver these special lady fingers to Alastor personally?" You suggest, knowing Alastor's company was always a good mood boost for Rosie, and her helpful nature meant she would enjoy giving a gift to someone she cares about. So she smiles and nods, worry leaving her face as she relaxes a little more.
"Yes, I think you're right. That sounds just lovely." She agrees, holding her arm out for you to hold onto so you can both start the walk there.
16 notes · View notes
droughtofapathy · 2 days
Text
"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby
The Great Gatsby
April 27, 2024 | Broadway | Broadway Theatre | Evening | Musical | Original | 2H 30M
Tumblr media
All the sparkly costumes and grandiose set pieces can't disguise this show's intellectually and musically filthy core. With a creative team that seems to have missed the entire point of Fitzgerald's book, Bad Gatsby is a Vegas spectacle best suited to theme parks and audiences bereft of critical thought. I have no loyalty to the source material. As a lesbian, I didn't much care for the book and its protagonist who seems disinterested in women, and spent pages waxing poetry about the male physique. But even I know it's a classic brimming with intellectual nuance, while this production is anything but. The relationship between Gatsby and Nick is now only ever a passing acquaintance, rather than the very foundation. The show's aggressive heterosexuality sees Nick and Jordan (a forcibly-feminized, pick-me girlboss type) romping about as Gatsby and Daisy, somehow even duller than the book (and how was that ever possible?) sing power ballads at and about each other that say nothing, and move the plot even less.
This adaptation of the beloved classic novel gleefully excises any and all purpose. Nick's idolization and homoerotic love for Gatsby drives the book's narrative. Here, he's doing basically nothing. My kingdom for a dramaturg who seems to actually like and understand the book, rather than someone who just wants to capitalize on it being newly public-domain. Why, oh why, do people keep adapting classics they clearly do not like? I don't like Gatsby, so I'd never bother to write a musical adaptation of it.
And speaking of music, it's ill-suited to both the period and the story. Everything is all contemporary pop ballad, and as someone who doesn't care about or know much of Jeremy Jordan, it's not working. Perhaps it's my blatant lesbianism and pretentious disregard for the allure of youth, but he's never seemed overly remarkable. He's a white male tenor. There are fifteen-thousand who look and sound just like him. But from the constant shrieking up in the mezzanine, you'd have thought the Beatles had come back for a one-night-only reunion. Thankfully, in my front side-orchestra section, I was surrounded by older patrons who politely clapped and refrained from any such screaming. Also, Jeremy Jordan's accent is all over the place, and I can't imagine why.
The shallow production that sits in the (possibly cursed, at this point) Broadway Theatre, has been robbed of its social commentary, its purpose, its depth. The characters are caricatures, the subtext is spelled out on a chalkboard (A song entitled "The Green Light"???) and is in some fascinating way, a meta commentary in and of itself. A massive budget allows for not one, but two working cars to drive around on stage. The glitz and glam blinded the creatives to anything...creative.
And don't even get me started on the baffling decision to cast a Mexican-Asian woman as Daisy, the quintessential image of white privilege. What are we saying by having Eva Noblezada in that role? It's such a thankless role that it's not like her talents are being utilized. And her character is so weak and dull, even more so than the book itself. And she's out here doing a hit-and-run, and yet we're just gonna...gloss right over that, I guess? And Nick's disgusted by Jordan saying they shouldn't tell the police what they know, but then immediately goes to plead with Gatsby to get out of town? Having done no work in the show to justify this loyalty, it's just inconsistency.
Also, and now I'm just jumping around to things I didn't like, the scene where Gatsby gets shot is staged so that Wilson is pointing and shooting that gun right at the front right orchestra section. And staring down the barrel of a gun is not what I want to be doing on a Saturday evening at 10:30 p.m. He shoots that thing twice while pointed at the audience, and no thanks.
Anyway, the Florence Welch Gatsby is at the ART now, so let's hope that one actually understands the damn book.
Verdict: Someone Put This Dumpster Fire Out
A Note on Ratings
16 notes · View notes
fragileheartbeats · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
174 notes · View notes
dendroculus · 1 year
Text
at this point the house should just go for a new record. how many did they have to do in 1856? 133 rounds? we can beat that. it would be hilarious
6K notes · View notes
beaft · 19 days
Text
One thing I've noticed, and stop me if I'm stating the obvious, is that the people in favour of barring under-25s from UK gender clinics are focusing the vast majority of their attention on AFAB people. They talk about "little girls" being "manipulated" into "mutilating themselves", "vulnerable children" cutting off their "barely-grown breasts" (ugh), and so on. I've seen zero mention of "little boys" taking estrogen or getting implants, and I think that's interesting, because it displays more clearly than ever the delineation between the treatment of transmascs and transfems.
It's hardly newsworthy to say that transmascs are perceived as victims while transfems are perceived as predators. Our "mental illness" makes us naïve, fragile, immature; their "mental illness" makes them scary, aggressive, perverse. Most TERFs won't even use the phrase "trans girls". They're always "women". To acknowledge that trans girls can be girls - that they can be young and in need of protection - goes against the entire TERF creed, so they just don't mention it. It's as blatant as it is disgusting.
357 notes · View notes
moroser · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
human au doodles. (cept the top left)
326 notes · View notes
nightingaleflow · 2 years
Text
Gonna make something real clear right now.
I am 100% pro-abortion.
Abortion should always be legal and available to anyone who needs one.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Day 15
We are set to arrive on Fendaar in two cycles. As we are currently stuck on the SIIR Noxos, I have concluded that the passages of time that I am free of duties would be best spent continuing to observe the human. The human, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans in that matter, as it took me an unusually long amount of time to locate her.
As I eventually found her, she seemed to be working on one of the control panels in the main control room, so I may excuse her absence with duties she had to attend to. As she saw me, although, she seemed rather…excited (this is obviously mere speculation, as the study of the Terran so far has provided far too little evidence to prove such theories)?
As she rolled out from under the control board and sighted me, her face once again split into a wide opening revealing her horrifying amount of teeth.
"Hey! Dude!", she said, raising to her full height and stepping towards me, still baring her teeth, although I did not recoil, as I did not want to seem impolite. She raised her arms, each pointing into a different direction, away from their connection to the human's body.
"Human Quinn. How are you?"
"Me? I‘m fine, the whole 'wandering around in space' thing just made me throw up, I honestly don‘t know why they insisted on keeping me there for two whole days."
The ends of her fingers, studded with claw-like (rather short and rounded instead of sharp, perhaps they were not meant to function as claws at all, or perhaps the beings on Terra were far different from what I knew, and therefore a shape like this was far more useful to hunt) protuberances, scraped over the back of the connection between her head and her upper body. If I interpreted her facial expression correctly, she seemed to be thinking.
"Maybe I got a light concussion too, I’m not entirely sure. But it's improbable, because I’m fine now."
I decided to focus on one piece of information at a time. "Well, this "throwing up" can certainly not be a healthy nor normal process, otherwise, it would not seem so violently painful and involuntary, would it?"
"Well it‘s not…unnatural, it‘s just something that can happen. And about health, it‘s not unhealthy, it usually helps us to get rid of stuff that is bad for our bodies!", she eludicated, moving one of her arms in a rather random manner.
"The scientists have concluded that this fluid is highly acidic. If this 'stuff' is so harmful to you, wouldn‘t it just dissolve in this fluid before being able to cause any further harm?"
Quinn seemed to think about that. 
"Well, just because it gets dissolved, doesn‘t mean it‘s gone, you know? It's still in our bodies, and we have to get rid of it somehow. And if it needs to be fast, we throw up. Honestly, I‘d definitely explain this further to you, but Biology‘s never really been my strongest subject, ya know what I mean?"
I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I decided against questioning her further.
After a pause the Terran spoke up again: "So, this planet we're landing on..." "Fendaar.", I clarified. "Right. So, this planet that we‘re going to, it‘s a desert, right?" "That is correct." "So, is it a sand, an ice or, I guess you could also count rock desert? 'Cuz on my planet, we‘ve got all of those types."
"Fendaar‘s ecosystem is mostly made up out of sandlike landscapes with rather scarce vegetation and biodiversity. Most of the planets in system 36-54 have rather extreme temperature ranges, and Fendaar is no exception.", I eludicated.
"Alright, cool.", she spoke, rolling back under the underside of the control panel she had been working on previously. She seemed to be sitting, or rather lying, on a piece of metal with four small wheels attached to it, allowing her to move it around.
"Your planet.", I initiated. 
"Yeah?", she responded, while continuing her work on the wiring.
"Am I assuming correctly that your planet has a far bigger biodiversity?"
"Oh, yeah.", there was a small spring in her voice, as if she had let out air in the middle of speaking. "Big biodiversity. We‘ve got deserts and rainforests, coral reefs and permafrost - although perhaps not for that long anymore - mountain ranges and all that stuff."
"Interesting.", I supplied, for lack of a better response. If Terra had such differences in temperature and landscapes, it was a logical conclusion that the humans had evolved to survive under such circumstances.
"Yeah."
It was unusually quiet for some time. That was, until Quinn rolled out from the underside of the control panels.
"Alright, I‘m done." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once again. Then, all of a sudden, the muscles of her face started contracting as if she was plagued by an invisible pain. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out horrifying noise, holding an arm angled in front of her nose and mouth. The noise itself was not particularly loud or long, but I recoiled either way, as a measure of safety. I could not be certain if this gesture was meant to harm me, after all.
Quinn‘s arm sank down again as her other hand rubbed at her nose. She huffed, a sound far less threatening than the one she had produced a moment ago. One of the hair patches above her visual organs raised itself, prompting the question to arise if human hair was controlled by muscles or if it had a mind of its own, although this was a question that could be further investigated later. One of the corners of her mouth raised, revealing the seemingly sharpest teeth in her mouth.
"I guess dust is an inter-galactic thing, huh?"
I did not respond. Her face muscles contracted, causing the skin above her visual organs to crease.
"Hey, you okay? You‘re looking a little spooked over there."
"Human, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, but, if I may ask, what was the purpose of the noise you just uttered?"
She did not respond for a moment, blinking with both of her eyes as she stared at me. It was quite unsettling, considering her previous explanation, that most humans preferred not being stared at. 
"I…sneezed?" The creases in the skin above her eyes deepened.
My front pliers uttered another rattling sound. "What is this 'sneezing'? What purpose does it serve?" I admit, I was quite curious. Terrans seemed much more complex than I had previously assumed.
She paused, seemingly to think of an answer. "Well, it‘s like…if something is bothering us at or in out nose, like dust, for example, it‘s kind of the natural response to that. To keep things out of our bodies that don‘t belong there."
"Human bodies seem to require a lot of defense mechanisms.", I commented.
She raised and lowered the connection of her arms to her upper body, baring her teeth once again while raising herself to her full height, using one of her arms as support.
"Y’know, it’s surprisingly hard to explain something you’re so used to to someone who’s never heard of it. I guess I still have to work on the whole 'awareness that I‘m around aliens' thing. S‘ kind of surreal."
She patted off her clothing, as if to remove non-existent filth once again. I had noticed the past few cycles that most of her clothing seemed to consist of several, usually differently-coloured, pieces of fabric. 
Her clothes usually covered her body from the connection between her arms and torso to the connection between her legs and, presumably, her feet. Her feet were usually also covered, although I could not determine the purpose it was supposed to serve in the environment we are currently in, although the theory that the conditions on Earth are vastly different compared to the ones on the SIIR Noxos is gaining more probability, based on the Terran's narrations.
The human seemed to evaluate a question she wanted to ask (this is, of course, a mere speculation based on previous observations: her face muscles were contracted to form a crease over her visual organs, which could so far most likely be interpreted as confusion, thoughtfulness or discomfort; her head was both slightly raised and tilted to one side at the same time, a gesture that was most likely supposed to convey an ongoing thought process).
Although, before she could utter a noise, V-7 informed us of a request from the Vitrichl to gather for a matter of importance.
The purpose of his summoning was to divide the crew into several smaller groups that were to be assigned with different tasks to fulfill once we sucessfully landed on Fendaar.
I was grouped with the Terran, which was unsurprising, as well as Tkzt, a member of the species that is widely known across the galaxies as Ctzas (it is to note that the Ctzas have not evolved any form of written language and communicate exclusively through clicking and chittering sounds. The written forms of, for example, names of this species, are written by other species to produce approximately the same sound as the Ctzas make when recited verbally).
Tkzt, as a member of the unit controlling supply chains and keeping a list of the stock of the SIIR Noxos, would make a helpful addition in our task of seeking out the nearest settlement in order to stock up on supplies.
After all matters of importance were settled, the crew dissipated, continuing their respective tasks. The Terran was ordered to stay and to assist the Vitrichl in another matter, which is the reason I did not cross paths with the human again for the rest of this cycle.
Despite this, I am positive that accompanying the human on an foreign planet will give me a further insight into the species' mannerisms and interaction manners with foreign species, which will prove to be helpful further on in studying the human.
163 notes · View notes
nientedal · 6 months
Text
Usually I just save stuff like this to my drafts until I calm down but you know what, fuck it, I'm done.
Any so-called leftist who refuses to recognize that our options right now are "genocide abroad, progress at home" and "genocide abroad AND genocide at home" and that there is a significant difference between those two options is cordially invited to eat shit and die. We do not have time to entertain your anti-voting hopeless nonsense. A future in which we are able to move towards less death will always be preferable to the one in which we can't, and if you smug, sneering little clowns sacrifice that future on the altar of your own self-righteousness because you're too high on your own farts to realize how far up your own ass you are, I genuinely hope you fucking drown. Specifically, I hope you drown in the blood of the people who will die all over the world as a result of your bizarre refusal to work towards a future that doesn't include ethnic cleansing.
This is the United States. We sell war, here. I don't know how so many of you are only just now figuring that out, but you better get over your shock like yesterday because we are out of fucking time. We ran out of time when Reagan took office if not long before. You think not voting will improve any of this?
Keep calling, keep writing, keep screaming. Governments everywhere are (slowly) beginning to listen. Democrats are (slowly) beginning to listen. But Republicans never will, and if they seize power again next year (which they will absolutely do their damned to attempt), everything will be so, so much worse for everyone, everywhere. The work is slow and painful and imperfect but it will only get done if we show up and do the work, so keep calling, keep writing, keep screaming-- and when the time comes, you show up and vote for the future that lets us build a better tomorrow instead of just choking to death in the steaming shitpile of today.
93 notes · View notes
leupagus · 6 months
Text
A few thoughts in re: working elections:
We need more people doing it. DESPERATELY. We are BEGGING YOU TO WORK FOR YOUR LOCAL BOARD OF ELECTIONS. In New York State, it's a four-hour training one day and then a full day on Election/Primary Day (you can also work early voting but it's not required).
If you can get those four days days off from your work, I BESEECH you to do it. We are staggeringly understaffed; 90% of our workers are over 50 and are overwhelmingly WOC. That's because these jobs are seen as menial and unglamorous, which they are.
(FTR, not one of the women I work with is retired. They have other jobs that they took off for this.) I was at my polling location for two hours after polls closed last night because of a technical issue that we didn't have enough workers to handle in a timely fashion.
It is a difficult and tedious job and you don't get paid much (you do get paid though, that's nice). It's also absolutely essential to our democracy and, not to put too fine a point on it, I'd like at least some of the people who talk politics all day to actually WORK for it.
If you can't/don't want to do it, that is totally fine—you should absolutely still care and talk about our politics and electoral issues! But please consider checking out your local BoE and attending an info meeting at least. I've met wonderful people working here; you will too.
(taken from bluesky thread)
105 notes · View notes