well i may not be the prettiest person in the room or the coolest person in the room i think im at least the third funniest
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The thing is that the most interesting and novel invention of the MCU is a universe where billions of people turned into dust and then were physically reconstituted on the spot five years later, in a world that had just barely adapted to their absence.
That is wild. That is intense! That is a series of pathos-ridden emotionally complex doorstoppers waiting to happen. Half the entire world! All dead! And somehow we coped with that! And now we have to cope with them all being back?
A whole street of empty houses--surely not everyone there became ash. Some of them moved to better places, now opened by the mass mortality. Some of them died afterward. Who will live there now? Even if inheritances are reversed by resurrection, surely leases aren't renewed. What the fuck happens to everyone who remarried?
What happens to the children snapped back to a world where their parents didn't survive, or the reverse?
But they had to then hastily smooth over this utterly batshit sci-fi premise and get the world mostly back to normal working order as rapidly as possible, without too much emphasis on how literally every person in existence has been placed in a mason jar by a narcissist and shaken twice in five years.
So they could get on with more superhero whack-blam business, which is customarily done against a background of Normality.
This is, tragically, the most Comics thing these movies have ever done.
It is beyond satire that they did this immediately before and during a worldwide pandemic that everyone was pressured to smooth over and 'return to normal' about within 2 years if not sooner.
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Obviously we have to wait for the video to know the story, but for anyone who’s studied any kind of social history/psychology/sociology/etc. And knows a little about the diagnosis of hysteria, Victorian mores, the use of lobotomies/shock therapy/etc to treat women who failed to live up to patriarchal ideals and the minimizing of women’s physical and mental health issues historically in the medical and psychiatric fields plus the old Hollywood of it all… the imagery is Telling The Story. I am fucking SEATED.
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as a woman who grew up with an emotionally abusive mother constantly telling me I needed to wear more makeup/more revealing clothing/date (boys) more/go out to "normal" parties more, I despise "she should be at the club"
god forbid some people- especially young women, who already have to deal with a thousand different behavioral standards from a thousand different directions -not have the same dreams and desires for their lives as you do for yours
fucking hell. the correct response to "women should stay at home and have kids and be submissive wives" prescriptivism was not MORE PRESCRIPTIVISM
(I also just saw a poll asking if people partied as teenagers, and OP responded that the answers were "killing them" because No was winning. like? why is everyone so personally invested in other people having a very specific kind of fun?)
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for a second, you did the bad thing and bargained about it.
if it meant that you would never be numb like this again, what would you give up?
maybe it's the childhood stuff or the religious trauma or how your dad doesn't believe in medication, but this is how you are, right. you need to have a counterbalance. suffering has to have its own reward. there needs to be a point to it. and if you're happy - if you could just be happy, and the world could actually fill in enough space that the edges of your spirit actually meet the horizon of your body - you would need to pay for it.
your passions? that one seems fair, but how could you actually be happy without them. well, you'd never be numb again, so maybe you'd be able to find joy in the small things like you used to. gleeful, you'd make coffee and breakfast into an artform. you'd find a way to make it make sense, somehow. you'd move on. it'd be different, but it would be doable.
your lover? your friends? this would be hard. you owe so much to your community. still, you could maybe make yourself a small home in the woods. you could live a quiet life, one devoid of friendship - but also without this horrible grey mist. a life like bigfoot, then. you'd figure out how to make the most of it.
your hair. your teeth. all of it.
sometimes you are jealous of mental illness as it appears in media: a big stroke of a meltdown, a firestorm that resolves prettily in therapy. it is flashing lights and thin teenagers. you've absolutely had breakdowns that stole the show - but life after resolved into a pixel art of things you managed to piece together afterwards, not a tapestry of a heart made suddenly-beautiful. that people could pick up blades as if they weigh nothing, that the way it all appears is as a cry for help, not a slow backsliding.
you have to stop the thought: i'd give up everything.
but also - be real. you'd never give up your dog. nor your best friend. nor the way you feel walking while through deep fog. you'd never give up the last bonfire of summer, the reckless laughter of halloween. so you do still love things.
maybe that's the problem: you know it should be easier. you have everything you could possibly want. so how come you are still trapped? still yearning?
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my birthday cake of my favorite splatoon image. unfortunately it cost one hundred dollars because safeway does not say that different types of cake cost more or less on the custom cake form and i accidentally made it twice as big as i should have. so many people were looking at me funny in the safeway so it was both hilarious and embarrassing i think. i hope yall enjoy this stupid joke
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