✨🌈✨

… boo …

[the-sweaty-toothed-mad-woman]

today’s the only day you can reblog this

“There Will Come Soft Rains”, Ray Bradbury

[captainobviois]

Did I get it all?

[fucktonofanatomyreferencesreborn]

A mouth-watering fuck-ton of hand angle references.

By Shadowcross on DA.

[kward-the-local-cryptid]

BLESS YOU, YOU  WONDERFUL PERSON

[superpeanutgarden]

We cant kill more people, [the guillotine] is a rental😓

-dashcon 2 staff

[logicalabsurdity]

pov: you are being extremely normal about attending the panel done by your favorite YouTubers of this decade

[ao3addict-25mil]

Too long to upload here so here is the YouTube link!

[ao3addict-25mil]

No one will ever believe it, but I asked the executioner before I voted if they thought there was a chance that Robespierre would pull a Napoleon and declare themselves emperor.

[ao3addict-25mil]

I’ve returned to the ✨PIT✨

[thebibliosphere]

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

[thebibliosphere]

I need you all to know this was in my queue, so it jump scared me when it popped up on my dash, but that I also misread "puppies" as "puppets," and now I'm choking to death on my water imagining Bruce Wayne on a guest panel with Kermit the Frog and Ms. Piggy whose puppeteer is absolutely shooting their shot through the medium of puppetry.

[thebibliosphere]

"Bruce Wayne, everyone. What a fantastic guy. All right, don't go anywhere, folks, we'll be right back after the commercial break when we'll be joined by the legendary Kermit the Frog and the effervescent Miss Piggy as they promote their latest movie, The Muppets Take Metropolis!"

The applause is deafening for a moment as the live band behind the podium strikes up a lively tune, ushering them into a commercial break.

"Really, thank you, Bruce," Murray Franklin says over the noise, angling his mouth away from the microphone on his desk. "You couldn't have got me to hold that fucking thing for all the money in the world."

Bruce inclines his head, a benign smile ever in place. "Oh, you know me, Murray. I'll try anything once."

"Well, that sounds promising," says a shrill, familiar. Bruce turns in time to find stagehands working rapid-time to construct a staging area behind the couch. And two humans holding two very distinct puppets aloft. Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.

"Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here." The frog puppet extends a hand toward him, causing a ripple of laughter to go up from the audience. Bruce arches an eyebrow at the puppeteer but reaches out to take the felt-green hand being offered to him. Apparently, he's not supposed to engage with the humans. "This is my companion, Miss Pigathia Lee."

"Mr. Frog," he greets the muppet formally, feeling the first hint of a genuine smile tugging at his mouth. "Charmed to meet both of you. I'm a big fan of your work."

"Oh, gosh! Really?" The Frog gushes, emoting the pure joy Bruce remembers from watching television as a child. "I could say the same to you! All that good work you do for the city! It's really something."

"Thank you." Don't cry, Bruce thinks suddenly. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Christ, it's like Mister Rogers telling you you did a good job.

"All right, save it for the camera," Murray interjects good-naturedly, pressing a finger to his ear and listening to whatever the producer is saying on the other end.

"Mr. Wayne?" Bruce turns to find his handler waiting for him, a makeup artist behind him. "Can we ask you to move over for this next part?"

"Of course." Bruce shuffles over. As he leans back, arm stretched out across the back of the couch he realizes what they're doing. They're using his bulk to block the sight of the puppeteers from the angle of the fourth camera. Clever.

He sits placidly as the makeup artist dusts powder over his face, listening to the instructions about how to talk to the muppets. Don't look at the puppeteers, look at the puppets. Treat them like real people. Try to keep it pg-13. Just act natural.

Natural, he thinks, his eyes skirting up to the stage beams and the shadows hovering above them. There's nothing natural about being Bruce Wayne.

"And we're live in five, four, three, two, one..."

The music swells to rising applause, and his smile slips back in place, as firm and solid as his armor. He zones out as Murray goes through the introductions. He's learned that no one minds if Bruce Wayne looks a little checked out at times. Christ, he's tired. He's half tempted not to go on patrol tonight. There's a dull ache building behind his eyes, and his ribs still hurt from getting hit with a crowbar. He hopes Dick is all right. Last night's patrol had been hard on both of them, hard enough that Dick had to miss school and spend the day in bed. Though he'd gotten up before Bruce left, adamant that he wanted to watch him make a fool of himself on television. He hopes no one else is watching. He hopes there's a mild disaster happening somewhere, and he won't have to listen to Clark ribbing him about how good he is with children and animals. Again. It's like being made fun of by a slice of apple pie.

Slowly, he becomes aware of the presence beside him. Bruce looks down to find Miss Piggy staring up at him, snout turned upward, head tilted in a manner that heavily suggests flirtation. Oh God

"Not that you have anything to worry about, Mister Wayne," the high, piping voice of Kermit the Frog informs him. "Gotham's far too damp for us Muppets to want to take over Wayne Tech, too."

Bruce smiles. He's vaguely aware of the plot of The Muppets Take Metropolis. Something about taking over LexCorp. He's surprised Luthor green-lit it. The other billionaire is normally so precious about being taken seriously.

"Oh, I don't know about that, there are lots of nice swamps around here," he says, gaze still on the amorous pig puppet inching closer to him. "Mud baths, too."

"Really?" Miss Piggy drawls, flicking her blonde wig over her shoulder, much to the amusement of the audience. "And are any of these mud baths on Wayne ground?"

He can't help but smile properly at that, mouth crooking to the side. He supposes he should have seen this coming. "Oh, yes," he says, inflecting the famous Bruce Wayne charm into his voice. "More than you can shake a stick at."

When the puppet's hand comes to rest its hand on his arm, his laughter is genuine. This might be the surrealist fucking thing that's happened to him in a while. And that's saying something because he got dosed with fear toxin last week.

"Now, Brucie," Miss Piggy drawls, "Don't tempt a girl with a good time."

Some absurd instinct makes him angle his body toward the muppet, smiling down at it like a real person. "Oh, Piggy Lee, you should know I never tempt. I can call you, Piggy Lee, can't I?"

"Honey, you can call me a cab because I'm ready! Let's skedaddle!"

"Well, how about that!" Murray exclaims, drawing the attention back to him as the audience loses it. "Kermit, he's trying to steal your girl!"

The Frog turns to look at him, to Miss Piggy, then back to Bruce. "Y'know something, Murray, I don't mind. Say, Bruce, are, uh, are any of those swamps nearby?"

Oh, he's never going to live this one down.

***

"So what's it like?" Clark asks, tone deceptively neutral.

"What's what like?" Batman asks, tone sliding like gravel over sheet metal.

"Meeting the Muppets?"

He thinks about it. "Surprisingly hard to look at the humans."

Clark nods sagely. "I've heard that."

[thebibliosphere]

The amount of psychic damage I'm taking from the tag "Bruce Wayne Muppet Threesome" is not insignificant, but I suppose I had it coming.

Also, because I might as well ride this crackfic into the Lazarus Pit:

The Muppets eventually do make a film with Gotham in it. The premise starts not unlike the other Muppet movies, where the Muppets are fractured, and Kermit is trying to get the gang back together. For this, he must travel around the US, finding the location of the other Muppets.

When the time comes to find Miss Piggy, the screen cuts to Wayne Manor, the other Muppets standing outside the imposing iron gates.

"Well, we tried," Rizzo intones nasally, already walking off. Gonzo catches him around the neck, hauling him back.

"Where are you going?"

"Home! What, you think she's going to leave Bruce Wayne?"

Kermit's face goes through numerous stages of grief before squaring into the kind of grim determination that can only happen when you have a fist for a jaw. "We have to try," the Frog affirms, then stoically presses the gate buzzer.

The scene cuts to inside the manor, where Miss Piggy is shown lounging on an opulent chaise, surrounded by immense wealth and luxury. Empty bottles of champagne everywhere and an inordinate amount of food. It's clear there was a party last night. She is dressed not unlike Debbie from the Addams family, her face covered by a fluffy pink eyemask embroidered in gold thread that reads "Wake Me In Paris" in gaudy, swirling font. In the background, a picture of Bruce Wayne and Miss Piggy can be seen on a table. The frame is neon pink and shaped like a heart. Bruce looks happier than he's ever done in his entire life. (Probably because he couldn't stop cracking up when it was being taken.)

There's a knock at the door, and she wakes with a snort, ripping away the eyemask. "What?" she demands harshly before correcting herself into a more ladylike twinkle. "I mean, who is it?"

Alfred appears as firm and imperious as ever. Perfectly straight-faced. "Forgive me, madame, but we appear to have a common rabble at the door."

"So? Release the hounds. Brother, do I have to think of everything around here?"

Alfred clears his throat, the slightest twitch of a smile on his face. It's gone before the camera can narrow in on it. "It appears they are friends of yours, madame. Ah, one Mister Kermit the Frog and, um, associates."

"Kermi!" she exclaims before she can stop herself. "I mean, uh, very well, send them in."

The Muppets traipse into the opulent room, googly eyes roaming everywhere in astonishment. "Wow," Gonzo breathes.

"Food!" Rizzo exclaims, lunging toward the comestibles and shoving his face into a bowl.

Gonzo hauls him back, glancing at Alfred apologetically. "Sorry.

But Kermit only has eyes for Ms Piggy. "You look well, Pigathia," he says solemn and sincere.

"I do? I mean, of course, I do." She harumphs, turning her back on him. "How could I not? I'm only the wealthiest pig in the world." She turns back, expression coy over her shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Well, we're trying to get the old gang back together. Our old theaters being shut down, and I just thought that maybe one last show might--"

"That's why you're here. For the show?"

Kermit takes a deep, shuddering breath. "No. That's not why I'm here. Gosh darnit, Piggy Lee, I want you back. I love you, and I know deep down" -- "way down," Rizzo supplies before getting elbowed -- "that you love me too."

She turns slowly. As though drawn by some invisible string. Her expression falls. "I do. I did. Once upon a time. But Kermi... Bruce takes care of me."

"I'll say--" "Rizzo!"

She carries on as if the others hadn't spoken. "I know you love me. But I also know I'll only ever be second best to the show. With Bruce," she sighs dreamily. "He's rich, handsome, and most importantly, dumb as a rock. I'm the most important pig in town. I'm practically running the joint. You really think I'm going to give up all this." She gestures around the grandeur. "For a penniless Frog who can't see past the next show?"

"Well..." Kermit hesitates, face falling. "Yes. I guess... I guess I did."

Gonzo and Rizzo share a look. "I think we better go," Gonzo says, placing a consoling hand on Kermit's shoulder. "Come on, guys. It was nice seeing you again, Piggy."

"Yeah, real nice," Rizzo intones, shoving as much food into his pockets as his little rat hands can grab.

Kermit shakes himself. "No. I refuse to believe it! This isn't you, Piggy Lee. You might think it is, but it isn't. All this wealth, the silk robes, the fancy food. I know you, Piggy Lee; I know you better than anyone, and you're not this shallow. You're a performer, a star. You were made to be loved by the stage. Not just some... some billionaire playboy who can give you whatever you want whenever you want. I have to believe that because otherwise, what the heck has it all been for? What have we been for? So what do you say, Pigathia? Will you come home? Come back to the show where you belong. For me?"

There's a long, heavy pause, and Miss Piggy sighs.

The following scene cuts to the Muppets flailing down the Wayne Manor driveway, yelling comically as several snarling rottweilers chase them.

"And stay out!" Miss Piggy yells after them. When she turns back to Alfred, she resumes her ladylike poise. "Alfie, be a dear and tell Brucie I'll be home late tonight. Mama's got some shopping to do."

"Very good, Madame."

She eventually shows up at the Muppet show at the last minute to save the day, a happy, bumbling Bruce tagging beside her. Later, when the Muppets are all on stage, the human protagonists, who are in the audience and seated next to Bruce, remark, "Wow, I can't believe they raised the money to save the theater!"

"They didn't," Bruce says with a small, knowing smile. His gaze turns to Miss Piggy adoringly, sighing wistfully. "But I just can't say no to that pig."

Henceforth it becomes Muppet canon that Miss Piggy and Bruce Wayne are in a heated on-again-off-again relationship. Neither Kermit nor Bruce seems to mind each other, leading to an episode of Sesame Street several years down the line where Elmo explains that sometimes a child can have one mommy and no daddy, or one daddy and no mommy, or have one daddy and one mommy, or two daddys and no mommies or vice versa, and sometimes if you're the Wayne kids, a daddy, a frog, and a pig.

Bruce will never live it down, but it's worth it. Letting the Muppets into his life is possibly the best longcon of his life. Who the fuck is going to believe he's Batman now? No one. Not even the butts matching can hold up to him being Miss Piggy and Kermit's sidepiece.

[dashcon-two]

The DashCon 2 Convention Weekend Pinned Master Mega Post Thread Ultra Deluxe with Knuckles

DashCon 2 MERCH

Ticket Verification Info

DashCon 2 IRL Panel Schedule

IRL Panel Schedule Download

DashCon 2 VirtualDash Schedule

Buy VirtualDash Tickets

DashCon 2 Public Discord Server

DashCon 2 Website

Ticket issues? Contact us at [email protected]

VirtualDash issues? Contact us at [email protected]

[cloudabserk]

people say rocky is lesser because “grace talks down to him” but that’s literally just how grace talks

[tuesdayisfordancing]

#it's a good thing he teaches middle schoolers #bc if he was teaching any younger he'd be saying shit like “okay guys say goodbye to the fighter jet!" #and half the science team would respond “goodbye fighter jet!” tags via @hylasregilla

[systlin]

Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them. 

Until, of course, they showed it to a traditional leatherworker and she took one look at it and said “Oh yeah sure that’s a leather burnisher, you use it to close the pores of leather and work oil into the hide to make it waterproof. Mine looks just the same.” 

“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”

“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”

It’s just. 

50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job. 

[saxifraga-x-urbium]

i also like that this is a “ask craftspeople” thing, it reminds me of when art historians were all “the fuck” about someone’s ear “deformity” in a portrait and couldn’t work out what the symbolism was until someone who’d also worked as a piercer was like “uhm, he’s fucked up a piercing there”. interdisciplinary shit also needs to include non-academic approaches because crafts & trades people know shit ok

[assasue]

One of my professors often tells us about a time he, as and Egyptian Archaeologist, came down upon a ring of bricks one brick high. In the middle of a house. He and his fellow researchers could not fpr the life of them figure out what tf it could possibly have been for. Until he decided to as a laborer, who doesnt even speak English, what it was. The guy gestures for my prof to follow him, and shows him the same ring of bricks in a nearby modern house. Said ring is filled with baby chicks, while momma hen is out in the yard having a snack. The chicks can’t get over the single brick, but mom can step right over. Over 2000 years and their still corraling chicks with brick circles. If it aint broke, dont fix it and always ask the locals.

[anx1ous-op0ssum]

I read something a while back about how pre-columbian Americans had obsidian blades they stored in the rafters of their houses. The archaeologists who discovered them came to the conclusion that the primitive civilizations believed keeping them closer to the sun would keep the blades sharper.

Then a mother looked at their findings and said “yeah, they stored their knives in the rafters to keep them out of reach of the children.”

[whatevercomestomymind]

Omg the ancient child proofing add on tho lol

[pbrim]

I remember years ago on a forum (email list, that’s how old) a woman talking about going to a museum, and seeing among the women’s household objects a number of fired clay items referred to as “prayer objects”.  (Apparently this sort of labeling is not uncommon when you have something that every house has and appears to be important, but no-one knows what it is.)  She found a docent and said, “Excuse me, but I think those are drop spindles.”  “Why would you think that, ma’am?”  “Because they look just like the ones my husband makes for me.  See?”  They got all excited, took tons of pictures and video of her spinning with her spindle.  When she was back in the area a few years later, they were still on display, but labeled as drop spindles.

[catchester]

So ancient Roman statues have some really weird hairstyles. Archaeologists just couldn’t figure them out. They didn’t have hairspray or modern hair bands, or elastic at all, but some of these things defied gravity better than Marge Simpson’s beehive.

Eventually they decided, wigs. Must be wigs. Or maybe hats. Definitely not real hair.

A hairdresser comes a long, looks at a few and is like, “Yeah, they’re sewn.”

“Don’t be silly!” the archaeologists cry. “How foolish, sewn hair indeed! LOL!”

So she went away and recreated them on real people using a needle and thread and the mystery of Roman hairstyles was solved.

She now works as a hair archaeologist and I believe she has a YouTube channel now where she recreates forgotten hairstyles, using only what they had available at the time.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Okay, I greatly appreciate the discussion here about the need for interdisciplinary work in academia, and the need to reach outside of academia and talk to specialists when looking at the uses of tools, but somehow people always have to turn this into a “gotcha!” where the stuffy academics get shown up (even though this very thread shows some archeologists reaching out to craftspeople to ask about how tools are used because they recognize the need for that knowledge and expertise).

“A hairdresser comes a long, looks at a few and is like, “Yeah, they’re sewn.”

“Don’t be silly!” the archaeologists cry. “How foolish, sewn hair indeed! LOL!”

So she went away and recreated them on real people using a needle and thread and the mystery of Roman hairstyles was solved.”

Did they? Did they really? The archeologists all laughed at the plucky hairdresser and then she proved her theory by simply recreating the styles?

See, what actually happened is that Janet Stephens (the hairdresser/hair archeologist in this post), who published an article about her theory in The Journal of Roman Archeology in 2008, spent about 6 years of research pursuing her idea that perhaps Roman hairstyles were sewn hair and not wigs. She did both hands-on experimentation sewing the actual hair, and more traditional research reading through a ton of sources. This is coming from an interview done with Stephens herself:

“Lots and lots of reading, poring over exhibition catalogs, back searching the footnotes to the reading and reading some more! It helped that I am fluent in Italian and, in 2006, I took a German for reading class. Working in my spare time, the research took 6 years.”

“I am an independent researcher, but my husband is a professor of Italian at the Johns Hopkins University, so I have library privileges there. We are friendly with colleagues in the Classics/Archaeology department and at the Walters Art Museum. They were kind enough to send me articles and clippings, read drafts and help with some picky Latin, though I try not to impose.”

(Source: http://www.thehistoryblog.com/archives/14729)

Wow, so people in the Classics/Archeology department and at the art museum sent her articles and clippings and HELPED her with her research as opposed to laughing at her in their gentleman’s club! It’s almost like people working the archeology/art history these days aren’t all stuffy old white guys from the 1950’s!

Stephens also presented her work at the Archeological Institute of America Conference, and according to the interview I cited above, it was apparently well received: “It seemed to create a a lot of buzz and people said they enjoyed it. It’s not every conference where you go to the poster session and see “heads on pikestaffs”!”

Like, there’s plenty to be said about the ivory tower and the need for interdisciplinary work, and the racism/sexism etc. that newer researchers are working against, but framing this story as “hairdresser totally shows up the archeologists with her common sense!” is needlessly shitting on the academics involved here (and the humanities in general have been struggling to maintain funding at many universities in the US, they don’t need to be further attacked), as well as greatly over-simplifying and downplaying Janet Stephens’ achievement. I think it’s more respectful to acknowledge the six years of work that she put into the project than to tell the story like she just sewed some hair and then all the archeologists’ monocles popped out.

[the-nettle-knight]

I want to point out that the original post actually fundamentally misunderstands the original article. This was not a case of the archaeologists not recognising the artefact type and a leather worker identifying them, this was a case of the artefact being so unexpected in this context, that it was almost missed. Here is a direct quote from the article:

“The first three found were fragments less than a few centimeters long and might not have been recognized without experience working with later period bone tools. It is not something normally looked for in this time period.”

The archaeological team almost missed them because these bone fragments were both tiny and unexpected as “[the] technology [was] previously associated only with modern humans”. As in, Neanderthals had not been shown to have even been capable to make these artefacts before that point. I don’t think people quite understand how big of a deal this is - this is about the equivalent of finding pottery in a modern human group about 20 000 years ago (they haven’t but that’s the level of *that shouldn’t be there*)

This was identified *by the archaeologists working on the project* because they’d found them before. They fully knew what these artefacts were in the first place, they just didn’t expect to find them there.

Then to prove it, they replicated the use-wear by buying a modern tool off the Internet and doing microscopic analysis. There was not a single modern leather worker mentioned in either the article linked or the actual paper put out. That is absolutely something that would have been acknowledged in both of the papers.

This paper was revolutionary in our understanding of Neanderthal crafting capabilities, recognisied by brilliant and diligent archaeologists and this entire narrative of incapable stuck up archaeologists is an insult to their work.

The women who recognised that the blades were being stored out of reach of children were also archaeologists. Janet Stephens’ research is part of a legitimate branch of archaeological research called Experimental Archaeology. Experimental archaeology has been practiced academically/professionally since the 80s. I’m a hobbiest in a lot of historical crafts and have been the person that a colleague turned to when struggling to identify an artefact. We were able to figure out what it probably was because I knew what use-wear to look for and how to find parallels.

The narrative that archaeologists are opposed to interdisciplinary work is very frustrating as so many of us, including myself, are strong proponents for it. We are very happy to talk to any and all professionals who will talk to us and highly value modern parallels (sometimes a bit too much, actually)

[transmascmarypoppins]

why is this post completely broken in every way imaginable

[cecilsrandomeverything]

Broken notes… deactivated account… removed image….

Finally, we have them all.

[spacefinch]

In addition: OP’s name is just… gone. No “[insert username]-deactivated[insert a bunch of numbers]” as is the standard for deactivated blogs.

Just the world “deactivated.” Look upon their post, ye mighty, and despair.

[chatblancofficial]

It’ll be almost impossible to find this post unless it wanders across your dash.

[huewrite]

It wandered across mine. I shall help it travel forward.

[gossamermouse]

this is not a place of honor

[jackviator]

[dinosaurana]

Oh hey post of Ozymandius, good to see you again standing on your feet in a desert where no one remembers you

[ao3addict-25mil]

Every time I rewatch Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse and I see Midge.

[satan-offical]

Teacher: guys this Tumblr post is 36281992 years old and only the long lost Tumblr princess can read it

Me: but teacher, I can read it just fine *starts reading in perfect tumblanese*

[satan-offical]

Who reblogged this 30 times

[satan-offical]

Who reblogged this 60 times

[mimosa-sex-tea-people-contrsf]

Keep going guys, we can get 100

[ao3addict-25mil]

Apparently I’m reblog 8301

[alagaisia]

Hey. Why isn’t the moon landing a national holiday in the US. Isn’t that fucked up? Does anyone else think that’s absurd?

[alagaisia]

It was a huge milestone of scientific and technological advancement. (Plus, at the time, politically significant). Humanity went to space! We set foot on a celestial body that was not earth for the first time in human history! That’s a big deal! I’ve never thought about it before but now that I have, it’s ridiculous to me that that’s not part of our everyday lives and the public consciousness anymore. Why don’t we have a public holiday and a family barbecue about it. Why have I never seen the original broadcast of the moon landing? It should be all over the news every year!

[alagaisia]

It’s July 20th. That’s the day of the moon landing. Next year is going to be the 54th anniversary. I’m ordering astronaut shaped cookie cutters on Etsy and I’m going to have a goddamn potluck. You’re all invited.

[watermelon-converse]

Hey. Hey. Tumblr. Ides of March ppl. We can do this

[emi--rose]

Hell yeah moon holiday

[hello-delicious-tea]

Ooh coming up we should celebrate

[ariaste]

PITCH: We call it Moon Day, and then every 7 years when it falls on a Monday, that's an even BIGGER deal and we call that Moon Day Monday and go absolutely apeshit about it (the next Moon Day Monday is in 2026 so we have a couple trial runs first)

[sarostheghostcat]

MOON DAY MOON DAY MOON DAY

[wafflebloggies]

moon day is 20th July!!!

[silly-jellyghoty]

Scheduling this a day earlier to remind you all and myself about the Moon Day tomorow!

[sashaforthewin]

Happy moon day to all who celebrate

[kitsuneofthemist]

This is your reminder to prep for Moon Day on July 20th.

[inkyrainstorms]

MOON DAY MONDAY THIS MONTH NOT A DRILL!!!!!

[ao3addict-25mil]

MOONDAY MONDAY 2026 EVERYBODY!!!

[cherryhatter-deactivated2015072]

KICK THE CAN!

Let’s play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.

To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.

[visibun]

the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now

[drtanner]

And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!

[ao3addict-25mil]

Kick