litotes culture

Kat • she/her • I'm 30s doing alright • bi/demi • book hoarder, art adorer, tree devotee

[caffeinecortisol]

look honestly if I had three arms I would not be any more productive I would still carry a coffee cup around the place and clutch it in front of me with all three hands

[hussyknee]

The most basic, intractable fact about mental illnesses is that you simply cannot willpower your way out of them. The only exceptions to this rule are the ones I have, which continue to disable me due to lack of determination and other grave personal flaws

[zegalba]

bonsai tree house by takanori aiba

[snoopyoftheday]

snoopy of the day

[bad-love]

I just wanted to add this quote from the peppermint patty peanuts wiki page about Charles M. Schulz and his relationship with his gay cousin. The source here leads to a book that I did not read but the original source is Schulz's wife who confirmed this in an interview. If I can find the interview again I will link it here but uh. just in case someone tries to claim Schulz was a homophobe on this post again.

[thebibliosphere]

Why must I be awake.

[thebibliosphere]

#another victim of the woke agenda

@natalieironside what's it like being one of the funniest mother fuckers on the planet?

[natalieironside]

I wish it paid more

[thebibliosphere]

Honestly? Valid.

[cherryjams]

‘Hands weaving magnetic-core memory, IBM, Poughkeepsie, New York,’ 1956. Photograph by Ansel Adams.

[bladespark]

My mother used to make computer cores as a "work from home" side business. As a child I got spending money via un-winding the ones that failed testing so that the magnetic center could be re-used. I got between $0.05 and $0.25 per core depending. Mom got more for the finished ones, of course, though I don't know how much. Her sister was an expert, and did the more complicated kind, some of which ended up in satellites and/or were used by NASA!

They were all done by hand using a kind of treadle-operated frame with a little (crochet!) hook to pull the wires around the cores. The people making them were mostly housewives who did this as a side-job in the 80s and 90s. I don't know if it's still done that way anywhere in the USA today, but the history of computing and space exploration is littered with "women's work" like this.

[cherryjams]

‘Hands weaving magnetic-core memory, IBM, Poughkeepsie, New York,’ 1956. Photograph by Ansel Adams.

[bladespark]

My mother used to make computer cores as a "work from home" side business. As a child I got spending money via un-winding the ones that failed testing so that the magnetic center could be re-used. I got between $0.05 and $0.25 per core depending. Mom got more for the finished ones, of course, though I don't know how much. Her sister was an expert, and did the more complicated kind, some of which ended up in satellites and/or were used by NASA!

They were all done by hand using a kind of treadle-operated frame with a little (crochet!) hook to pull the wires around the cores. The people making them were mostly housewives who did this as a side-job in the 80s and 90s. I don't know if it's still done that way anywhere in the USA today, but the history of computing and space exploration is littered with "women's work" like this.

[slowlikehoney1996]

If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earthquake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win.

James Baldwin, Nothing Personal

[agnesmontague]

i love the word jumbotron. the most american word, beating out any sad contender the likes of “burger”. immediately you get “jumbo”, the most american size; land of the Big Gulp. “tron”, like the movie, implying some vague cybernetic concept that hints at its purpose. then you find out, oh, it’s the giant screen at football games. the thing that sometimes puts you on blast for the most mortifying 45 seconds of your life, if you are so lucky. feel like (or become) a star, however briefly. get your affair blasted on national tv. everything about the word speaks to such an american way of living. huge fan

[tomfoolerytotality]

Looking back on 2020, I think it's hilarious that Wellerman of all shanties is the one that blew up online. It's not a song about life on the high seas or adventuring

It's the "Where the fuck is my delivery" song

[stevishabitat]

[thegaymertrainer]

Ribbon dancing I was not aware of your evolution 🤯

[phantomrose96]

Anon hate is shitty and you shouldn’t do it of course but it’s also the funniest and least effective kind of hate

For starters the blogger can just delete and ignore it. And given tumblr’s penchant for eating asks I think it would drive some hate senders a little insane if they keep checking back in wondering if their ask got eaten.

For second the anon ask format guarantees the blogger gets the last word in every time. Even if anon sends a follow up message they will never get the last word. And tumblr for better or for worse seems to run on this currency of “whoever expressed the last opinion in a post is the one we’re supporting”

For third, this publishes the hate directly to the blogger’s own followers, i.e. the people MOST likely to take the blogger’s side. Home court advantage by design.

[phantomrose96]

#I call for an audience with the king. After waiting in line I stand in front of his throne #(dressed in a huge white bedsheet like a cartoon ghost so as to hide my identity) #I call the king a bitch. I insult his policies all of which were made with the guidance of his court who r also all here #the king ignores me. I say it again in case he didn't hear. The king ignores me #I leave in shame (via @septimus-heap)

[worldwright]

the Hail Mary is the opposite of idiot-proof. she's built for very smart people to be able to do Whatever They Need with every tool they have in order to achieve their goals. fucking with the centrifuge settings? i'll warn you that you're messing with important stuff but go right ahead man. ripping up the floor panels and pulling out the electricals to make a really unsafe extension cord? sure why not. pop off the fucking fuel tanks? yeah ok you're the most qualified person here and if you say you need to do that who am i to argue. i love the utter lack of guardrails on everything

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

oh wait just realized i can edit my own posts.

like you can't edit reblogs anymore but you can still edit your own post even after it has a thousand notes or whatever.

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

i have the opportunity to do the funniest thing.

[garagepaperback]

ironic last words, wikipedia

[crplpunkklavier]

we bought a shirt at a thrift store that says "best mom in louisiana" for some reason (as a reminder we are in midwest germany) and now my spouse keeps walking around the house wearing it and saying shit like "WHO STANDS BEFORE THE GREATEST MOM OF LOUISIANA?"

[inkskinned]

falling in love is so fucking stupid. everything on earth is glowing honey-bright. i am easily charmed by small things. i am obsessed even with the shadow formed by her eyelashes. i can't get over the magic of this: that humans can feel something like this.

and yeah in the history of humanity we still can't seem to talk about it enough. because i can tell you about it - about her - and it won't surround the experience. it can never be big enough.

i am feeling something people have maybe always-felt. who knows when the first person fell in love. i am also feeling something that feels new and silly and extreme. like maybe we're the first people to really understand it, truly.

i know the science of it; why her smell is so good to me (something about our compatible genes). oxytocin and whatever hormones. and still it is incredible - i didn't think my body did this kind of thing. i thought it was an invention of romance-book marketing.

things make sense that didn't make sense before. songs about how love is an addiction or possession or insanity. orpheus had to turn around, of course he did, i would turn for her too, just to see. my mom and i watch a rerun of a murder mystery; for the first time i understand the line he did it for love - instead of being trite, it feels like a genuine tragedy.

and of course i am feeling the same way millions of people have maybe felt and know i cannot write enough about it, that it won't quite surrender to poetry. why do i think i'm gonna be the one who can finally communicate this thing that resists definition so ardently. this girl in my kitchen, humming. who walked so casually into my life. this girl pulls the rain down from even a cloudless sky.

what i can say is that i feel something impossible, and stupid. what i can say is that nothing about this is unusual, and yet i am so caught in it that i keep waiting for some terrible evil - something so good surely must come with some kind of retribution.

we get high and watch zombies 4 (it's terrible). the main characters sing a song about love; how theirs feels wild and impossible. the kind of thing i used to think was insipid, bad writing. baby that's us, she says into my ear.

that's us, she says, but with us the true love thing is actually real.