Okay no but like, I am still SO ENAMORED by this transition y’all, ‘cause when Dorothy opens the door of the house onto the colors of Oz, the inside of the house is still sepia toned. And they did that by literally making the interior and the costume and everything SEPIA TONED. You had a double for Judy Garland in a specifically-created sepia-toned dress, in a sepia-toned set, opening the door, backing out of frame, and then the Dorothy that steps back into frame is Judy Garland in her full color costume and makeup, stepping out into the color set.
It’s just
Y’all it’s such a GREAT EFFECT, and this was before computer effects and green screen, it was all practical and yeah it feels like nothing now, but at the time, man, not only was technicolor new, but I’m pretty sure no other movie had done a transition out of b/w or sepia into color, and even knowing it was a technicolor film, that must have just been fucking wild to see! It still is wild to see!! It’s so good.
The technique of switching between double and main actor without an edit is called a Texas Switch and it's still used today, it's very neat to have something so simple yet tricky persist pretty much just because it genuinely looks better to do it with timing than with editing.
I feel like the reason certain dog-lovers insist cats are evil is because they read their body language as if they were dogs. So here’s a very basic guide to common “mean” things cats do that actually aren’t mean at all if you know what they’re thinking.
Rolling and exposing belly- attacks you when touched
Does not mean: Give belly rubs! - haha I tricked you!
Actually means: I’m playful! If you reach for my belly I’ll grab your arm and bite it because I think we’re playfighting!
Lazily exposing belly - still attacks when touched
Does not mean: tricked you again!
Actually means: I’m showing you my belly because I trust you. Please don’t break that trust by invading my personal space. I might accept a belly rub if I’m not ticklish and I know you well.
Snapping at you while being pet
Does not mean: I suddenly decided I dislike you!
Actually means: You’re petting me in a way that gives me too much restless energy. Please focus on petting my head and shoulders instead of stroking the full length of my back next time.
Is in the same room but makes no attempt to interact
Does not mean: I’m ignoring you
Actually means: We’re hanging out! I’m being respectful by giving you space while still enjoying your company.
Slapping/scratching your hand when you try to pet them
Does not mean: I hate you!
Actually means: You’ve failed to establish that we’re not playing, or the way you’re approaching me scares me. Be calmer, speak more gently, make eye-contact and blink slowly at me before you try again.
I love dogs too but, I’ve been trying to tell people, you canNOT treat cats like you treat dogs. They arent the same animals and have very different personalities
P.s.: people often pet cats way too hard. Dogs like a firm pet or a pat on the belly, cats dont have the same bone structure and are more flexible than dogs so what you’re doing probably hurts them
Sitting and staring
Does not mean: I am challenging you/plotting your demise/just generally evil and creepy.
Actually means: I am a desert-adapted species, so my natural tears are very thick and keep my eyes moist for a nice long time. I do find people interesting and enjoy watching them. I just don’t need to blink very often!
Staring and blinking slowly
Does not mean: I’m smug and think I am smarter than you.
Actually means: I like you! But I don’t need to get up in your face to show it. I can just sit over here and blow kisses at you to show you I am glad you are around!
It’s very frustrating for me when people expect cats to act like dogs, or act like they’re deceitful. They aren’t! They just AREN’T DOGS.
Get ready for “more reasons why I fucking love cats”
Yes, the legends are true. Cats headbutt you to show their trust and affection. They also do it to show “hey look I see you as family.” Lions do it with members of their pride to say the same. It’s not just because they want food.
Cats nibbling is indeed literally cats grooming you. It’s what mom cats do to their kittens. If a cat is gently biting and/or licking you, they’re now your mom.
Meowing can simply be for the mere fact they want to say hello, want to play or be pet. Again, not just for food.
They barely meow at other cats (except for kittens, they meow at mom cat), mostly just humans. There are exceptions but overall, meowing is almost always for us.
Cats squinting/slow blinking is indeed basically the equivalent of us smiling and/or kissing.
Cats, like humans, prefer to get things without having to work for it- which isn’t very common within other animals.
Cat massages or making biscuits is because they happy! Kneading is another way of saying “hey I like this moment here I enjoy you and my life.”
Cats recognize us by smell, sound, taste, and touch. They recognize us after years as their long term memory is extremely good. This is why abused or neglected cats are so easily scared or hard to connect with. If your scent changes over the years or just in the day, your voice will them it’s really you. Also, they will only remember you if you had impact on their life. If you just existed in the same house, they obviously won’t care.
And yes, they know our patterns in the day. You notice it when it’s beneficial to them (feeding time!). They will often wait for you to come home as well.
To remember: cats think we are interesting as hell. They watch us do everything because we’re fascinating!!!
They also want you to be around when eating because they feel vulnerable. They focus on eating so they hope you protect them. They do the same for you, all the time.
when a cat turns their back on you, they’re not snubbing you. they’re trusting you to watch their back.
notice how when you’re unfamiliar but nonthreatening, they might loaf facing you and sorta halfway watch you. you’re not fully trusted, but you’re ok by them.
when you’re familiar and liked, they’ll often sit near you facing the same way. imitation of poses is a weird little way cats show solidarity. they do it to each other too. check out these bff’s:
they are doing this on purpose. it’s a buddy thing. so if you’re watching tv and a cat sits next to you and pretends to watch tv too, they are basically calling you bro and declaring friendship.
and if they really love and trust you, they’ll turn their back on you and go to sleep. they’ll sleep facing a wall in your presence, or lounge where they can’t see the room. this isn’t a snub, folks, this is true kitty love. they’re saying, “i feel safe when you’re around. i know nothing’s going to sneak up on me, because you’re here. i feel so safe i can stick my head under a pillow and snore with my butt pointed at you.”
farts aren’t an expression of love, though, as far as i know. they’re just farts.
It’s not creepy at all to be sitting on the end of the mattress, watching Blondie sleep. That’s what Eda is trying to tell herself, at least. The boy is—Hunter. Hunter. He has a name. His name is Hunter. And she better get used to saying it around. To have him around.
To say that Eda knows a thing or two about trauma would be an understatement.
She’s used to seeing all kinds of fucked up. But none of them ever involved a child. None of them ever involved her child. To hear Luz trapped in the fucking Emperor’s mind already has her heart at her throat, and now she’s come back with hollow eyes and a boy refusing to leave her side, hyperventilating every time he opens his eyes.
She had chased him through the woods.
The boy trips over a strayed branch; he’s barely breathing, fingers grasping on his chest as if he was trying to pierce it, rip his beating heart out of his lungs.
“Kid—kid, stop!” she’d yell, and she knows she shouldn’t have because it would damn well scare him even more, but she couldn’t help it. He’s going to hurt himself. And Eda has enough of everything trying to pry her children away from her in one night. “Hunter!”
He’s crawling on his knees now, a torrent of tears dripping down his chin as he chokes and gasps and flails his arms around with little to no coordination as she pins him down, gathers him into her arms and settles his waist on her lap. Just like she had with King, all those years ago, refusing to be bathed or tucked into bed. Just like she had with Luz months ago, the first night she came back from the petrification ceremony, fresh off the trauma she’ll have to carry her whole life.
“Don’t touch me! ” the kid screams, weak arms hitting on her again and again, but Eda has a hold of him. The two drop on the ground, and Eda cradles him like she’d cradle a wounded animal. He might as well be, for all she knows. There’s no telling what it was that they’d seen in that bastard’s mind, but whatever it is…
“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” she says firmly, “you have to breathe. Look—look at me, look at me,” she tilts his head gently to look up, crimson eyes dilated to almost pinpricks, “you’ve gotta breathe, sweetheart. I know you’re upset, I know, but you have to breathe.”
He stops flailing, replaced by gasped breaths and choked out sobs as Eda pressed his head against her chest, strings of shushes cascading down her lips. “Easy, easy,” she murmurs, shaking her head, “you’re going to be alright. You’re going to be alright.”
Her bony palm gently wipes away the stream of tears staining his pale face. And when he finally looks up, straight into her eyes—she’s never seen a kid so broken before. She’s never seen a kid so dependent on what she was going to do to him, like a wounded rabbit in the grasp of a hunter.
“Breathe,” is the first thing she says, because the kid is still not breathing right. Every breath he takes is strangled, and she’d pressed her palm flat against his chest to encourage him to breathe right. “In and out,” she tilts his chin up, nodding slowly, “in and out. You’ve got it, thatta boy.”
More tears spill out of his eyes. “He’s—he, he knows, he—”
“Hey, hey,” she shakes her head, “breathe, now. Just breathe. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to get you back home—”
“I can’t ,” he wails, “I can’t, I can’t , he knows—”
“ Shhhh , shhhh , I’m not talking about the Emperor, love,” she explains gently. “You’re coming home with me.”
“But I—” his eyes widen, “I don’t, I can’t—I don’t have anything to give you—”
“I don’t need anything from you, Hunter,” Eda tries to ignore the way her heart is ripping to pieces. “Don’t worry about that now, ‘kay? We’re gonna get you back, we’re gonna get you a bath—”
“No, no baths—”
“Okay, okay,” she shakes her head gently, “no baths. Just bed. We’re gonna get you some water and then we’ll get you to bed, okay?”
He doesn’t have the strength to do anything else except nod defeatedly.
He had let her carry him back home, bridal-style in his arms, because his legs were too weak when he’d tried to stubbornly stand up and he’d started crying all over again. Luz was still standing on the doorway when they got back, eyes as hollow as before, and she’d locked the door shut behind her. Hooty wordlessly knows to keep their lockdown defenses up until further notice. King had pulled out a dusty mattress all on his own from the attic, lined with fresh sheets by the time Eda had finished running Luz a bath. The boy is still frail, still curled up in a ball on the corner, still trembling.
She’d coaxed him in some tea. Fluffed the pillows, then coaxed him again to bed.
Luz stayed by his side. She did not say a single word.
And now she’s here, between the mattress and the couch in the living room, watching the steady rise and fall of her children’s breaths as the world spins on. Three. She has three now. The realization dawns rather quickly, gently murmuring it’s okay, I’m here and thatta boy ’s while she cradles the boy back to sleep when he’d woken up screaming throughout the night, over and over.
Dear Titan. Three.
Three children to look after. Three children she’d have to protect with her life. Three children feed, tuck to bed, wrap jackets over their cold shoulders when the weather gets colder.
But. Three children to fall in love with. Three children who’d call her Eda with drawled out a’s when they want something. Three children to wrap her arms around and have their heads on her lap and three children to live for and the house will never be quiet ever again.
Eda sighs softly, muffling her breaths with a kiss on top of Luz’s head. In her sleep, the girl squirms and frowns, but her bony hand is laced onto hers, and she eases back to sleep once she feels her presence there with a light squeeze. Her other hand is inches deep in Hunter’s hair—she’d learned a long time ago from King that having a set of fingers gently massaging his fur—now hair—is all the trick she’ll ever need to calm a child.
Three children.
Three children she won’t allow the world to lay a finger on ever again.
But Eda will find a way to manage with that, somehow.
“Mommy’s got you,” she whispers to all three of them between the tick of the clock, the dead silence of the night, and prays to whoever’s out there that she’s not telling them a lie.
Idc, if someone was making fun of MY wife’s chronic disorder that she is supposedly very sensitive about in front of thousands of people, I’d get on stage and smack the shit out of him too
I need people to know this isn't just some ha ha funny moment, this is someone standing up against ableism in the most direct way possible on national television.
Let's acknowledge that this was misogynoir as well as ableism. You cannot ignore the historical and cultural meaning of humiliating a Black woman for her hair, be it because of a condition or for any other reason. Especially from a comedian who's made a career out of misogynoir.
When Utonium first creates the girls, he immediately panics about how to take care of them and drives to the store to get supplies and, literally, the First thing he says when he gets back is “good parents don’t leave their children home alone.”
Like Utonium went from Scientist to Dad faster than the explosion that created his superpowered daughters.
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