A sideblog wearing a main hat @belovedordos - Tumblr Blog

I think the thing that killed doctor who most of all was the fact that during the streaming golden era it was impossible to watch on any platform except the bbc iplayer (uk geographically locked), and most people forgot how to pirate with the rise of netflix

#absolutely would have watched if it was airing in my country

nat-20s

Doctor Who season 4 is so delightful because you can tell that The Doctor, on occasion, straight up forgets that he's sad and burned because he's busy being in a sci-fi buddy comedy. And then something will remind him and he'll be like oh! I'm sad and burdened! And Donnas almost always there to be like 'hi sad and burdened. I'm Donna' and he has a completely proportional reaction like 'i would die a thousand deaths for you'.

weremustelidae

for christmas we're deleting the entire show. tally ho you teaboo shits

#dw

mindllessdreaming

and the winner of superwholock is officially??? no one. we all lost. congrats team

#dw

australiansanta

u know when someone really annoying is talking and you can almost hear the XDDDDD in their voice

quirkybrittany-blog

what’s wrong with “xD”?

australiansanta

not now quirkybrittany

#oh no

faireladypenumbra

I always want historical inspiration pages to be full of factual information and beautiful photography, but 90% of their posts are under researched joke photographs, outright photoshop, and captions like “in the 1800s, women in every country could only eat expired dates during Christmas because their husbands had full rights to the dinner goose. ;(”

marzipanandminutiae

“Victorians reproduced via the husband pleasuring himself into a silver cup while thinking about the abstract concept of his wife’s ankles, which he had never seen before because she was a Proper Lady.”

“the Seed-Urn, as it was called, would then be carried by an illiterate, nameless servant covered in soot and horse manure into the wife’s bedroom, where she stood completely immobilized by her corset and long skirts. she would then be artificially inseminated by a doctor, while he used a vibrator to get her off as a free bonus hysteria treatment”

“after that, she was promptly returned to the asylum, having been committed there for being theoretically aware of the alphabet. her husband prayed for four hours to be forgiven his sin of ankle-lust, and then reminded their 27 existing children that he did not love them. just in case they forgot"

“also everyone involved was secretly dead the whole time”

#have to save this one

kaelio

jellogram

I should be doing more to appreciate the lack of marvel movies in today's popular culture. I once yearned for marvel movies to have this level of irrelevance. They used to feel almost ozymandian, like an empire that had no beginning and no end. and now tony stark iron man is naught but two vast and trunkless legs of stone.

#nailing it op

beardedmrbean

this sounds like a party to me

grand-theft-carbohydrates

idratherhavefreedom

@belovedordos

#it is a joke to him but I am Norwegian and have received a speeding ticket #78 in a 70 zone and totaled 9000 kroner #which is just under £900 #could have had a real party in Mumbai instead apparently

cheaphalloweencostume

someone new in my replies implying only white people watch movies made more than 15 years ago because thats roughly when all movies stopped being racist. just spreading the word

cheaphalloweencostume

does anyone else smell burning toast

#afroamericans famously would simply not know who Samuel Jackson is without the MCU

pmamtraveller

The Wait by Darian Mederos

#a post that should have been in the opposite order

hannbl

chrollo-tw

me after I eliminated 21,042 people

hamletthedane

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

joyflameball

Anyway dni if you still support Cain, he hit his brother over the head with a fucking rock and it killed him instantly (source). I truly do not know how he still has fans. It astounds me how people can call themselves good people and still be completely fine platforming blatantly Abelist assholes like him. Smh

#something something there's a markov chain joke here SOMEWHERE