I think what a lot of tumblr-only people are missing about twitter failing, is that it was always a better website when it came to small businesses, instant world event news, fact checking, having users from all over the world, being a source for disaster relief information or warnings, and anything else to keep people up to date with going ons.
Sure, tumblr has many users from all over, but the website is still largely english biased and not nearly as widespread as twitter. I know a lot of news and knowledge comes in on here too. I've learned a lot and see a lot of donation posts in regards to world events, but its nothing like twitter unless you know who to follow. Not to mention, half the news I got here, was days later and from twitter to begin with.
Seeing that being taken away in favor of hate speech and enabling abusers (with the recent potential of getting rid of the block feature over there) and pushing blue user comments to the top (aka elon's weird fans), drowning out anyone else on popular posts, sucks! It sucks for the world and small businesses. because there's really no alternative to it right now.
The site's running rampant with spam and scammers and its becoming more and more unusable by the day. And some people think it's silly to be upset over it or "you shouldn't have all your eggs in one basket" well there only is one basket! This is literally people's livelihoods people seem to be making fun of anytime a change happens that breaks the site and people post all their socials.
And everyone from every country is talking about different websites they're considering, and its splitting up our connection to the world. And surely he knew who this was hurting with every decision.
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What I've been asking for a while now!! You all love watching animes and reading and watching stuff with such themes but can't seem to understand it now that it's really happening.
Given how obsessed western media and Israel were with the "bUt h@m@s" narrative this time, it makes it plenty obvious that ham@s is no longer the t€rr0r1st body that Israel once empowered and enabled it to be. It's just people/freedom fighters wanting their land back after they've experienced decades of similar barbarity it appears.
And how anyone thinks Palestinian people will come out of the current massacre, mass murder and cruelty all chill and cool is beyond me. Do you seriously expect they won't want to avenge their loved ones after the stuff Israel did to their families??? The school year in Gaza had to be ended because all kids were DEAD. Entireeee family lines have been wiped out. Their hospitals, refugee camps, bakeries, schools everything has been turned to dust. Their internet and phones were cut off while aid was refused entry and all of this is stuff you can read without crying, and feeling sick I haven't listed the stomach turning shit yet.
Oh btw are you all still seriously believing that Israel is out there doing you a favour by t@rgEt1ng h@m@s? They're just killing and slaughtering and destroying so they can expand their colonized land later (this has been said by Israeli politicians and people). Also, they don't care about hostages from their country so before demanding their release from h@mas, talk to Israel.
And what happens when they're done getting rid of h@m@s which I know they're not doing that but still? Palestinians will thank them and carry on with their lives? What have you all been encouraging and celebrating Ukrainians for? Why doesn't that same logic apply here? You don't expect one ounce self-defence from Palestine later??? After alllll that was done?? Get your brain checked.
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hold on ok i belted out a brief laughingstock Scene for possible future use that i Had to write down bc if i didn't, i'd never remember it. and why not share?
~
“Barnaby? Barnaby, old chap, are you with me?”
Barnaby blinks, registering the green fingers snapping in front of his nose. He huffs a laugh and pushes Howdy’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. You were saying?”
Howdy gives him an exasperated look, a fond look. “Thinking about running off to a farm again, were you?”
“Nah, just the clouds. They’re a lot less work.”
“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Who would I talk to during the long hours if you went and floated off?” Howdy winks before turning to his shelves, already yammering away about something or other.
Something or other that Barnaby is once again not listening to, because what was that? Barnaby quickly presses his cool paw-pads to his burning cheeks, feeling the bristling fur there.
Has Howdy ever winked at him? Now that he’s noticed it, Barnaby can’t recall. If it’s new, then why? Why a wink of all things? What did that mean? And that look Howdy gave him…
Barnaby adjusts his abruptly too-tight tie. It’s unusually warm in the store, isn’t it? Howdy must have forgotten to turn on the AC.
Gosh, what is Howdy even saying? He’s still talking, but Barnaby hasn’t absorbed a word. He can’t even tell if Howdy is still speaking english. It’s all garbled.
There’s something wrong with Barnaby. He must be coming down with something… or he’s just overthinking it. Overworking the ol’ noggin. A good long nap should set him right.
“Listen,” Barnaby interrupts, patting the counter, “I uh, I don’t know where my head’s at. I better go find it - I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Oh… alright, then,” Howdy says, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.
Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Barnaby slaps that thought out of the park. He doesn’t want Howdy to be disappointed, that’s absurd. That’s something a bad friend would think. Barnaby may be many things, but a bad friend isn’t one of them.
“I’ll whip up a joke that’ll knock your socks off next time I see ya,” Barnaby promises. He smiles around the discomfort and the entirely new feeling squirming around each other in his chest.
“Now you’ve gone and brought up my expectations,” Howdy says. He leans on the counter and grins. “Are you sure you can back up such a claim, Mr. Beagle?”
Another hot flush races under Barnaby’s fur, and to his growing mortification, his tail starts wagging at breakneck speed. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh and backs away from the counter. To both of their horror, his back hits a shelf, making it rattle and tip.
“Oh, sh-” Barnaby lunges to right it before it can topple. He whips around and laughs again. Howdy’s wide-eyed stare burns. “Sorry ‘bout that! Talk about a bulldog in a bugshop, geez.”
“When you find your head, make sure to screw it on nice and tight,” Howdy says, a strange look on his face to match his tone. “And check your temperature while you’re at it - it’s not like you to be off-balance.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m off-balance,” Barnaby says. He inches towards the door, willing his stupid tail to calm down. “I just have ears instead of rearview mirrors.”
“Uh-huh…” Howdy slides to the side, trying to peer around him.
Barnaby fumbles for the door. The scrape and bang of his search for the handle echoes in the quiet store. One of Howdy’s eyebrows creeps higher the longer Barnaby stands there, making a complete fool of himself.
Finally, the door clicks, and Barnaby nearly tumbles over backwards in his haste to get out. He stumbles down the steps and briskly walks away, adjusting his hat and tie. As soon as he’s out of sight, he slaps his paws to his face and sags against the bodega.
“Idiot,” he hisses to himself. He presses his back flat against the wall and slams the side of his fist against it. Normally, Barnaby would use a situation like this to his advantage. But Howdy wasn’t laughing, and Barnaby wasn’t being funny. “Bulldog in a - gah, idiot!”
Great. Now Howdy thinks he’s not only a clumsy oaf, but that he’s losing his touch too.
Barnaby growls in frustration, pushing off the wall and stomping away from the plaza on all fours. What does he care what Howdy thinks of him? Others’ opinions of Barnaby have never been anywhere near his list of top priorities - barring Wally’s, of course. If they were, he'd never tell another joke again.
Yes, Howdy is a good friend of Barnaby’s. A close friend, even. But since when has he had such a - such an effect? Barnaby shakes his head, growling again.
There was no effect. Barnaby is just going insane. Or he’s getting sick, like Howdy implied. That would explain the sudden hot flash, the loss of typically impeccable coordination, and, oh yeah! Barnaby’s brain leaking out of his ears.
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so benjamin zephhaniah passed away yesterday.
though id reckon more people might recognise him as jeremiah jesus in peaky blinders, he was also a writer and a dub poet, and he was unquestionably one of the best british poets ever.
i dont want to write like a whole biography for him in this post because other people have done that much better than i can, but instead i just want to recommend his work. he has countless books, plays, poetry collections, albums, etc.
one of my favourite things about his poetry is how accessible it is and how he writes poems the way he speaks them, and in regard to that, i just want to share one of my favourite poems of his, Dis Poetry:
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
It gets into me dreadlocks
It lingers around me head
Dis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bike
I've tried Shakespeare, respect due dere
But did is de stuff I like.
Dis poetry is not afraid of going ina book
Still dis poetry need ears fe hear an eyes fe hav a look
Dis poetry is Verbal Riddim, no big words involved
An if I hav a problem de riddim gets it solved,
I've tried to be more romantic, it does nu good for me
So I tek a Reggae Riddim an build me poetry,
I could try be more personal
But you've heard it all before,
Pages of written words not needed
Brain has many words in store,
Yu could call dis poetry Dub Ranting
De tongue plays a beat
De body starts skanking,
Dis poetry is quick an childish
Dis poetry is fe de wise an foolish,
Anybody can do it fe free,
Dis poetry is fe yu an me,
Don't stretch yu imagination
Dis poetry is fe de good of de Nation,
Chant,
In de morning
I chant
In de night
I chant
In de darkness
An under de spotlight,
I pass thru University
I pass thru Sociology
An den I got a dread degree
In Dreadfull Ghettology.
Dis poetry stays wid me when I run or walk
An when I am talking to meself in poetry I talk,
Dis poetry is wid me,
Below me an above,
Dis poetry's from inside me
It goes to yu
WID LUV.
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