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@daniilzsn
I decided to view her self intro-for fun but I coughed up blood and died
Also notable is that right before this, she said something like "What's that? 'You should've prepared more'?"
I was drinking something and almost choked on it so we have a sort of kinship
This is by no means an invitation to try, but I feel leel like a solid 80% of death threats just wouldn't work on me.
"you should just kys tbh" no?????????????? that sounds scary. I am not going to do that.
also not a fan of the concept of hearing characters talk in therapy speak like it’s natural dialogue but the shit i’ve seen people call “therapy speak” makes me think idk man i think that’s just like two people talking
“you didn’t mean to but you hurt me” “i’m sorry” is not a therapy speak exchange they teach you how to talk like this in first grade like
Spider-Men Headcannon:
Peter created such an iconic, aesthetically pleasing suit because he himself is actually quite talented in the arts. Of course, his real passion lies in science, it's what defines his life pre Spider-Man, and something that's still incredibly important to him both as Spider-Man and as Peter Parker - He spent his entire life learning, practicing his craft, and going on tours to buildings that have radioactive spider problems to get where he is now. As such he doesn't really spend much time practicing drawing bar the occasional sticky note doodle. The times where he does draw more seriously (I.e., when making the suit, the diagrams he drew as a teacher, etc.) He ends up kinda cooking to the surprise of everyone else, with his drawings always being kinda effortlessly pleasing, with good anatomy for how little time he spends on them
Conversly, Miles is far more serious with art - It's something that fills him with so much meaning, so he practices diligently every night so he can put his ideas to paper. He spent tons of time on anatomy, color theory, whatever other stuff artists practice (sorry I'm not an artist) because it means so much to him. However, there is some pressure on him to go into a much safer career path: Science. This is because he is naturally really good at it - He's top of his class in either of the school he attends, It comes to him quite naturally with just the information he gets in class being enough to get a good understanding and he's an incredibly quick learner.
The 2 Spider-Men, whenever they see eachother being effortlessly talented at eachothers' passion, always get just a tad envious
I was supposed to give a speech to over a thousand people today at a labor rally, but the rally was planned mostly around white union organizers who have not been to ICE recently or maybe ever. I say this because they planned this as follows: a Rally, with a march to ICE, followed by a second half of a Rally, the second half of which was to include my speech, which seemingly was the only speech to include a Salvadoran migrant speaker.
I was not originally invited to speak, but heard last minute that someone else had fallen ill and was giving up their slot, and begged white organizers through the grape vine to let me speak as a Salvadoran migrant and union steward who came to the US at age 7.
I have long been soured of going to so many rallies and felt alienated that they were allegedly for or about my people, but that no one had thought people /like/ me exist - we are still here! There are migrants in your work spaces and neighborhoods and organizations, we have stories and labor songs and speeches to share, we are marxists and labor organizers and have reasons to speak out too.
But seldom if ever do you hear our music or faces or voices near the banners. Instead of Tigres Del Norte we heard Bella Ciao, and none of the singers knew the Italian words or bothered to even translate them, so they sang nanananananana, instead of the powerful lyrics that maybe meant something once to someone somewhere. Instead of Somos Más Americanos we heard Don’t Worry, Be Happy.
Instead of a Salvadoran woman who wanted to speak to the American union workers about the Banana workers unions, we heard from a dozen white people about democracy, and justice, and the constitution, and no one was warned about what would happen if they marched down the street from the park to the ICE facility. They fully expected everyone to come back and complete the second half of the rally.
Instead, marchers with their dogs and children were tear-gassed to hell and back the second they dared get close to the facility, maybe at best 1/3rd of the marchers returned while the rest were bottlenecked towards ICE. There was little to no water to treat the untrained protestors. I returned to the rally quickly realizing I could not get caught up at ICE, knowing who I am and what awaits me.
When I got back a chorus of smiling white faces sang a silly song like a Christmas carol with their heads bobbling, reading the lyrics from some handed out papers. White people with upside down flags cheered. Then a black woman in overalls abruptly got on the mic and said “Well thank you everyone but we have to close the program early because people are getting tear-gassed, please get home to safety righty away,” - and I swore I couldn’t believe my ears.
They had brought us all here, marched all these people down to the ICE facility, and expected us all to march back without encountering teargas? And then when some people had made it back they had them sing a little jingle but turned the one migrant away? I begged them to let me speak for the three minutes I had allotted, noting that I had put myself in serious danger to come out here today. That I needed to be heard just this once, and that all the white people had their fair turn to say many unrelated things, and to sing many unrelated songs.
She said, “you don’t understand, there are children down here,” and I had to say “you don’t understand, there are children in the camps.”
And she tried again, “yes but the gas is spreading,” and I said “yes we have been down here being gassed for six months, don’t you understand?”
She blinked twice and told me they just had to break down. I watched from the sidelines as they continued to blare Caribbean Blue and smooth jazz while people filtered out, stood around talking, chatting - finally I said, “please let me speak, you still have speakers going, it’s been 20 minutes,” and the DJ, a white elderly man in a sweater vest who had a strict “only the classics” policy that seems to actually mean “no hip hop and no curse words,” - barked at me that he had to break down and to help him take down his canopy. I am no maid, so I did not listen. He then turned to my comrades and told them to take his canopy down, which they did not. Then turned to his two other labor organizers who were not paying attention, and they took a leg of the canopy and moved it somewhere without breaking it down.
And one looked at me and said quietly, “it’s okay, take that bullhorn no one will notice,” and we took it and ran.
And we ran to a firetruck which I climbed, and I gave the speech, which was in fact more than 3 minutes, sorry not sorry, to a crowd of workers who were slowly pouring out from the ice facility, some stopping, some going, some who heard me, some who didn’t. And I gave it there and it was the only speech most of these people will ever hear from a migrant in all of this, and I think that is tragic. But I firmly believe that had I not given it, had I not climbed the truck, had I not taken the mic, some people would have never heard this story at all. And I think very much you should hear it. And I hope you will share it, if you have the chance. And I hope I get to tell it again, someday, to people who actually listen, to the masses who came to actually support immigrants, and not just to the dredges after they’ve been gassed and are running for shelter while I’m coughing myself.
This is what I had to say.
Transcribed for accessibility + added links for context, but please still watch/listen to the speech if possible. A live speech really resonates. Begin transcription.
Olivia: I came to the United States when I was 7 years old. And I became a citizen when I was 20. But I am on this stage to ask: if you will give me 3 minutes of your time, *cough* I will give you 300 years of American History that has been taken from you.
There are five crops that changed the world as we know it. Bananas. Coffee. Tobacco. Sugar. And Cotton.
First grown by slaves in the New World, these crops all happened to also grow in a little bean-shaped country that my parents lived in near the Caribbean called Cuzcatlan, ‘The Land of Precious Things.’ It would be renamed El Salvador in the 1800’s.
But the precious things remained after the name changed. And the people were captured, and they were forced to work for pennies on the dollar to dredge the precious things from the soil, and the sea, and the mountains, and the sand. Cuzcatlan was not precious just to us, you see. It was coveted by the Americans. And once they saw our jewels, they would never be satisfied again.
The people suffered. And how we suffered! Dying in the fields, raped by their masters, buried in the shining black volcanic sands, their blood fertilizing the crops.
Of Bananas. Coffee. Sugar. Cotton. And Tobacco.
Until one day, the people of Cuzcatlan said, ‘We can bear it no more.’ And they broke their shovels in half, and they plunged the stems into their masters, and they rode through the streets on their masters’ Spanish horses, and they cried out that Cuzcatlan would no longer belong to the American companies that demanded their precious things without paying precious prices. Perhaps, soon, those business leaders would learn to negotiate for the labor and crops they so needed.
And the Americans? The Americans could not stand it! They would not abide such a story be told. And so you never heard it! The American companies, and all of their corporate masters came down on Cuzcatlan, with a fury seldom seen before. They killed everyone.
Instead, you heard a story about “Communists” and “Terrorists” in Central America, spreading a disease that would destroy your country and families. You heard a story that we have no good will towards you. That we wanted you to starve, that we were lazy, and formed gangs, and were lawless, and wore weapons to sell you drugs and fund terrorism.
But you never heard the story of Cuzcatlan, because it was a sad story, and sad stories do not sell fruit, and coffee, and cigarettes!
No, they came to my country, and they wiped out entire villages. The Archbishop, Don Remar - er, Don Romero, himself, was shot by the military during his Sunday Mass, for having dared to wonder whether the workers deserved some mercy. Assassinated for having dared to wonder, and he was left bleeding on the pulpit, even as worshipers bowed their heads.
EVERYBODY was KILLED.
EVERYBODY! The women, with their children still in their arms. Anyone looking for cover; people who found cover, people who didn’t. People who worked, and people who had no jobs. Communists. Catholics. Those who didn’t know how to read, those who didn’t know what labor rights were. Simple folks. Smart folks.
And they didn’t stop there. They went through the countryside, and they killed everyone they thought was hiding labor organizers or communists sympathizers. Banana union men and women, who they labeled terrorists. And in one village, we still only speak about in whispers, called “El Mozote.” The Americans tied women and children to trees, and they threw their babies in the air, and they shot them. Everyone was killed, to send one message, and that is: “A union is a threat to the American Empire. Not one union man or woman will hide in your village, or any other. And if you hid one here, now or ever, you will never breathe to hide one again."
And I tell you this because I am you from the future. You and I, all of you, are very much alike. You worked very hard to ply the precious things you have from the ground, the sky, the water, and the aether. You all wrote stories, you filed insurance policies, you taught children, you rung people up, you made sure whatever sorry system they had worked, not because you believed in it, not because you wanted it, but because it was all you could do.
And in exchange, they offered you cheap bananas. Coffee. Sugar. Tobacco. Bananas.
But I will tell you a secret. They were never cheap. They were precious. And so are you.
And they stole you, and they stole us, and they stole it all, and they told you: if you look the other way, you get to be satisfied and at least well-fed. But who can afford the luxuries of cigarettes or vapes or groceries anymore? Even that is being taken from you. And even if you have them, your food or your small pleasures won’t satisfy you. Not more than knowing the truth about Cuzcatlan, not more than knowing the truth about El Salvador. Today, where our precious land once stood, they built a concentration camp called CECOT. And not just for our precious things, our people, but yours. Your citizens, your dissenters, your unwanted disappeared into the hole that America built.
And what will we do when they start building incinerators at the camps? What will you do when they open up mass graves?
For our people, the most precious gift of all: do not take my warning lightly. The story of Cuzcatlan is not just from the past. It is from the future. The workers face the same enemy, and the enemy never had your interest in mind. From the moment they had you, the plan was to have a worker. From the moment you existed, it was to create another soldier against the people of Cuzcatlan and the rest of the world. You were a commodity to them.
But we have written you a new future. One in which we no longer point guns at each other. One in which our billionaires fear the land of precious people from learning they are no longer precious things.
Turn to me now! And tell me you will not forget the last three minutes. You will never again be ignorant of this story. And you will not let it happen here. You will close the camps. You will destroy ICE.
Spectator: Yeah! Olivia: You would rather have seasonal bananas or never see one again than have it covered in blood.
Spectators: That’s right! Yeah!
Olivia: You would rather trade fairly with other union workers than kill your fellow man, wouldn’t you?
Spectators: Yes! Olivia: Tell me you love me, and that our fates are tied! Tell me you’ll stop them from dragging me down from this place, and I’ll never let them do to you what they did to us. I promise. El pueblo unido…
Spectator: JAMÀS SERÀ VENCIDO!
Olivia: Nunca será vencido. Amen.
End Transcription.
Lil Dicky - Earth if it came out today "I'm a fat fucking chud, I'm a common chungus"
"And my producers advised me not to feature kanye west"
tbh the first step of recovery is to stop feeling kind of proud about how fucked up you are. your martyr complex is not an endearing quirk it’s the fatal flaw that makes your friends feel like garbage and will sabotage your whole life.
no I mean like. that’s actually exactly what I’m talking about. shrugging and deciding that your inability to have healthy and equitable relationships is just a cute immutable feature of your personality is bad. it will hurt you and people who care about you. sometimes it is a bug and it is dishonorable not to try to fix it.
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you're welcome
To all trans men on this site, im gonna put you onto something. If you are in need of a binder but have unsupportive parents or are closeted, if you have a fondness for the ocean, or if youre bored with the normal colors of binder available, go to Waterlust and get a top
As you can see above, theyre all patterned like marine life, but theyre also reversible! One side has the pattern, the other is solid color, and they're all fun colors like blues and reds and greens, but some like the whale and tiger shark ones are more subtle grays and blacks. I have the whale shark one and the spongebob one (which was a limited run), and theyre both very well designed and printed. My spongebob one has served me for roughly four years and it hasn't worn at all.
What really matters? The binding power, and these things are great. I'm a triple D cup and with a medium I look like I have subtle pecs. They're also much less compressive than other binders due to their materials (which are mostly recycled!), so you can wear them for longer without getting sore. When I did more intensive theater and band performances, I could still act, dance, and play bari sax without getting winded or hurting myself. They're also swim tops, and I've scuba dived in these as well comfortably.
If that wasn't all, proceeds from each purchase are donated towards marine conservation and education initiatives! Purchasing shark printed ones specifically donate to shark studies and conservation orgs, parrotfish and coral prints support coral restoration initiatives, and so on. The high price tag is for a good reason.
Overall, if you're looking for an all around good binder, one that matches your whimsey and supports a good cause, Waterlust is the place to go.
helpful on 1,110 days left
update from the discord group courtesy of one of my mutuals;
do not trust that damned survey. change your discord password. utilize 2FA.
I use 2FA on every website I log into, and it didn't ask for any details when I took the survey, but I still don't trust that thing at all. One can never be too safe.
to be clear, the one that is a scam is the one that asks for your Discord login information. there is a legitimate one that does not ask for ANY information and that one is a legitimate qualtrics survey from Discord. make sure you always check sites and links before you click on them fellas!
The legit survey has been closed down as of yesterday.
The phishing scam is taking advantage of the high emotions about AI, but if anything online asks for your login info (that is not on the actual verified website that belongs to that login that you navigated to yourself (not a link from an email or post!)), that is a huge sign to STOP.
I think part of the problem of the finale, on a conceptual level, is that it seemed to have tried to find the middle ground between the two farthest opposite extremes of the fandom interpretations of dream and tommy's relationship without realizing that there is no way to mix them without poisoning the batch.
You know that old saying about how the middle ground between decency and genocide is still murder?
There's been quite a few posts insisting that this was a "win" for both dream apologists And tommy apologists, but what that fails to understand is that dream apologists have always been arguing for the merit of their little guy, emotionally invested in a fictional character's reputation to the detriment of all else, while tommy apologists (while not Without that mindset) were largely concerned with the portrayal and understanding of abuse.
There's no world where an abuse survivor who saw themselves in tommy's story sees the finale tell us that tommy was responsible for his own abuse, that there's an action a child can take to make them Deserve it, in a "softer" and more "understanding" light than you'd see from dream apologists in regards to tommy (insisting the problem was that he just didn't know better) and Not feel disgusted or devastated.
Creating a situation where dream apologists believe they've always been right but walk away liking tommy's character a little more will not create the inverse with the other half of the fandom. because most inniters Loved c!dream but were appalled by the abuse apologia. I don't care if dream apologists Like tommy, I care if the narrative validates their beliefs that victims can Earn the trauma they receive, and that having earned it makes the abuser more sympathetic (if not the Real victim entirely).
You can't do a Little abuse apologia to please both sides and play every angle. Either you isolate and hurt those affected by abuse or you don't.
I hate to say it, but the dreamon theory would've been a more sensitive and nuanced way to find a middle ground and justify an ending that took a sympathetic light towards dream without vilifying tommy or minimizing his abuse. It also would've given a more believable justification for dream having been capable of mind controlling ranboo.
And I don't say these things because I like them, but instead because they are true.
what annoys me the most is that like. they literally could have just put more focus on his motivations than literal false claims about c!tommy being accepted by him as fact for some reason. i was saying this shit years before the finale- c!dream is a pathetic little man desperate for any sort of kindness even if it’s forced through abuse. focus on that and exile, show how fucked up and unjustifiable c!Dream’s actions are but show his motivation. Boom Done.
no but really. you just take the Implications of the disc war finale, of dream ruining his own life and hurting himself chasing after something that he can never have specifically BECAUSE of his own actions, and you kick it up even further
framing dream as Self Destructive because of his own insecurity is like. Thee way to go. it humanizes him without making him Right. without Dehumanizing tommy or sacrificing tommy's characterization in exchange for dream's.
you can make dream a tragedy of a man ruining himself, of his downfall being completely avoidable, while still making it his own fault. that's literally how his character had been played up until that exact moment
anybody else uhhh. anybody else. anyone else uhhhhh
Tragedy alignment chart. Feel free to use, but please reblog if you do.
And of course the second part of the tragedy, which is: which quadrant did you think you were in vs. which one you were really in
Taiya and Chashiro are like if Zoro and Luffy had their IQs quadrupled and they also liked cars
“aren’t you tired of being nice” no!!!! i’m tired of everyone else being mean!!!!!!!!
surviving the current age of internet means saying no to subscriptions and premiums for basic features. you must endure the inconvenience of not being able to use every server emoji in discord. you must build the patience to find alternatives like NewPipe so you can listen to music on youtube while your phone screen sleeps. do Not give these corporations your limited disposable income. tiktok not letting me view videos on my phone without downloading the app? i will outlast tiktok and the execs will be remembered as dull,disgusting capitalists. listen to me, listen to me. if you do not know how to pirate shows from hulu, learn. if you can't pirate it, it is not worth the money to rent it. please i'm on my hands and knees. do not accept this form of internet.
follow up
say YES to artist owned platforms. say yes to nebula for your favorite funny person or informative commentator. say yes or even join cartoonist.coop to support sustainable income for your favorite artist. use the money you saved from cancelling webtoons and commission a new artist for a silly icon pic. i'm telling you it's worth it!
Here's a reddit post with alternatives to start your degoogle journey
