MY TUMBLR DASH IS BURNT INTO MY DAMN COMPUTER SCREEN
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I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them
People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human
“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”
“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”
“Yeah!!”
“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”
“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“
“How illogical”
“That’s what I’m saying!!!”
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• Fidgeting and stuttering do NOT always indicate that someone is nervous.
• Avoiding eye contact does NOT always mean someone is lying.
• Having a hard time focusing does NOT always mean someone is lazy.
• Carrying around a stuffed animal or blanket does NOT make someone childish.
• Poor motor skills is NOT a direct indication of intelligence.
Not everyone fits into your box. Deal with it.
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ppl who are like “there’s no way sokka’s art skills would improve, he’s ontologically bad at art” ummmm. dude. you realize that this is the mary sue of hobbies, right? this guy could out-westley westley. he would develop an immunity to iocane powder in less than a week because he’s just that prodigious. he became a kyoshi warrior who could best their leader in a matter of hours, and this was the first time he had ever trained in his life with an actual teacher and opponent. he mastered the sword in one day, if we’re to take piandao’s word for it (and considering his name is literally sword, he is clearly an expert). sokka looked at the rough schematics for hot air balloons after the eminent inventor in the world had spent who knows how long not able to get his idea to actually work like “uhhh…. this may sound obvious, but have you tried a lid???” he has borderline supernatural aim with a boomerang. he was dropped into a haiku battle knowing nothing about the form, and not only beat the leader of ba sing se’s premier haiku club, but also chose, completely unnecessarily, to make each verse rhyme. if he actually sat down and practiced drawing, maybe with some instruction from a trained artist, or easier beginner’s materials than ink and a brush (you’ve all seen my art, and I still cannot paint with ink and a brush), I think sokka would easily be able to produce a work on par with (if not superior to) the mona lisa by the following morning.
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Do you guys notice how when Shawn Fain, president of the United Auto Workers union, started planning a general strike, he did it by a) targeting his messaging towards unions with the ability to safely and effectively strike in large numbers, b) laid out a clear, actionable plan for those unions to follow (setting contracts to all expire at the same time, since many unions cannot strike while under contract), c) is using union contracts to set clear, actionable demands that can be met in order to gauge success and provide an end goal, and d) started organizing FOUR YEARS before the proposed strike date to give people the chance to plan accordingly, because it takes a really freaking long time to get tens of millions of people organized?
You notice how he didn't do it by slapping a message on Twitter saying 'hey nobody go to work on Monday, that'll really show 'em'?
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hello and good morning to my new favourite article headline. i need this game injected directly into my veins, i cannot wait any longer
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Sam is fucking done.
She moved to Gotham because fucking obviously she would. It even has the name "Goth" in it. She loves it, it's a crazy place; not as crazy as Amity, but crazy enough to stave off the homesickness.
She's actually met Ivy, and very nearly embarrassed herself asking for an autograph.
She loves Gotham.
It feels like she was always meant to be there; she's not out of place, she's not too violent for them, her grave humor is appreciated and her coworkers say she's the funniest person in office.
But there was one aspect of Gotham she was done with.
The fucking Bats landing on the fucking roof of her penthouse at three in the morning to chat. They stomped around, their voices kept waking her up (thanks liminally enhanced hearing!), and worst of all; they chipped one of the gargoyles that stood over her bedroom window with a grappling hook.
So she resorted to petty revenge. She voluntarily lost sleep to do it.
She hid on her own roof, and snapped pictures of the Bats nonstop. Of Batman specifically, since he'd started the whole vigilante thing with them and it was entirely his fault.
Then, she photoshopped the ears off of Batman's costume.
She posted them on a blog she forced Tucker to make her (secured, isolated, untraceable), wiped the metadata with a program also from Tucker, and uploaded them. Every night.
It gets addicting.
Soon, she's made it a hobby. She stays out and stalks the Big Bad Bat, taking unflattering photos of him and removing the ears in Photoshop, and posting them on the now very popular blog.
It comes to a head one night when Batman is being forced to choose between two of the Bats, the blue one and the short red one, and he's clearly actually distraught at the choice.
Fuck.
She's gonna have to get involved.
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something. about. the horror of being sent on an impossible (death) quest and obligations and hospitality politics. the trauma of not having a home, and then the trauma of being in a house that becomes actively hostile to you, one that would swallow you whole and spit out your bones if you step out of line. all of this is conditional, your existence continues to be something men want gone.
it's about going back as far as I can with the perseus narrative because there's always a version of a myth that exists behind the one that survives. the missing pieces are clearly defined, but the oldest recorded version of it isn't there! and there's probably something older before that!! but it's doomed to forever be an unfilled space, clearly defined by an outline of something that was there and continues to be there in it's absence.
and love. it's also about love. even when you had nothing, you had love.
on the opposite side of the spectrum, this is Not About Ovid Or Roman-Renaissance Reception, Depictions And Discourses On The Perseus Narrative.
edit: to add to the above, while it's not about Ovid, because I'm specifically trying to peel things back to the oldest version of this story, Ovid is fine. alterations on the Perseus myth that give more attention Medusa predate Ovid by several centuries. this comic is also not about those, either! there are many versions of this story from the ancient world. there is not one singular True or Better version, they're all saying something.
Perseus, Daniel Ogden
Anthology of Classical Myth: Primary Sources in Translation, edited & translated by Stephen M Trzaskoma, R. Scott Smith, Stephen Brunet
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