First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me
poetic translation of a confessional prose piece by Martin Niemöller
I'm not a poem person. I have a hard time with it. but this is one of the few poems that I think is truly important, especially in the united states of america in 2026.
the current administration is right now trying to go after the communists and socialists in this country. liberals collaborated with the nazi party in germany, thinking they could control the fascists and that they would never be targeted. we can't make the same mistake now in america.
this is so late renaissance early mannerism. the controversial male nudity? the lighting and value on the figure of emphasis?? him bathed in light and placed ABOVE while the police are clad in dark and BELOW?? Uh HES HITTING THE CONTRAPPOSTO??
I love it when a classicist has clearly gotten so lost in the BCE sauce that their perception of time has become deeply warped. Case in point: the article I’m currently reading just described the Byzantine era as “a period relatively modern.”
A lot of people are ragging on the 'cable diverted to avoid Dobby's grave after Harry Potter fans raise a stink' thing and while I also love ragging on Harry Potter fans being weird, in this case it looks like the story was completely made up.
tl;dr: There's no evidence the interview that this was mentioned in even exists, no evidence the route of the cable has ever changed, and the whole story seems to originate from one dude's podcast.
The story also broke into mainstream via the Daily Mail, who are ... rarely if ever honest or accurate.
rocky thought he was going to die he thought erid was doomed he thought he would never see grace again he thought grace was probably stranded by taumoeba too he thought their mission failed he was injured and burned and alone and HOPELESS and then GRACE BANGED ON HIS SHIP AND YELLED FOR HIM
#(so high pitched he's making dogs go nuts from 12 light years away) YOU SAVE ME AND YOU SAVE ERID#I LOVE YOU. I CAN'T CONNECT THE SHIPS IF YOU'RE OUT OF THE FUCKING AIRLOCK. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. GET YOUR ASS BACK INSIDE
Robin: At least all that stupid spell did was give us animal fetures. *glares at the Robin wings now popping out of his back*
Beast Boy: Honestly I don't feel much different.*has a snakes tail, a bats wings, large goat horns, and lion ears* I think I'm a Chimera?
Cyborg: Could be worse.*has two dog ears on his head, one upright and robotic, the other organic and floppy, he also has a tail but it was short and tucked into his suit*
Raven: Starfire seems to be having fun. *looking upwards as two massive raven wings wrap around her in place of her coat.*
Starfire, giggling: I am the cat! Meow! Meow! Meow!*two pink cat ears rest on her head, paired with a long, elegant pink tail* Oh! Phantom is the cat too!
Phantom: *laying in the air with white and black rounded ears, and a long white and black spotted tail, that he is chewing on*
Robin: Why are you eating your tail?
Phantom: *shugs*
Beast Boy: Hes a Snow Leopard, sometimes they just kinda carry their tails around.
Robin, sighing: Nobody's hurt? Good, then let's go catch that weirdo.
Bonus!
Robin: I'm so glad thats over.
Starfire: Awe, I liked being the cat- hey! Phantom is still a leopard!
Robin: What?!
Phantom: *lazily floating and smacking at his own tail* Hmm? Oh I wasn't spelled. *ears and tail vanish before reappearing* See?
Robin: What? Explain!
Raven, groaning as she just remembered: Hes a ghost! That spell had no physical body to latch onto!
Beast Boy: Nice.
Cyborg: So why did you give yourself ears and a tail?
Phantom, deflating: I felt left out.
Starfire: *nods in understanding and pats his back in reassurance*
Bonus #2!
Phantom: Psst! Star!
Starfire: *curiously flys over*
Phantom: I snagged that guy's spell book! *grins as his Snow Leopard ears pops back up* Do you want your ears and tail back?
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#phantom is a teen titans member#phantom and starfire are besties#and now theyre also flying/floating cat boy/girl#robin is so tired if this#robin was a robin#raven was a raven#beast boy is a chimera it just felt most appropriate#starfire was a cat i was thinking a Siamese or oriental shorthair something long and elegant#cyborg was a doberman his robo ear is cropped but the organic ear is unaltered#danny didn't pick what animal he got he just let his body so whatever felt natural
Rewatching Truman Show for the first time in a long time, and the detail that’s stuck with me this time is the set design.
The characters drive modern cars and hock modern products, but it’s all presented with a veneer of 1950s wholesome applecheeked Americana. Truman’s life is presented as an escape for the audience from the drudgery of the modern day, and the aesthetic they’ve chosen for this is the post-war economic boom. This is the simple time, the movie says. This is the good time. Doesn’t the modern day suck? Let’s go back and see our friends from the days when life was good.
And it’s a lie. Truman’s life is a lie, and the image of white picket fenced suburbia they’ve presented is a lie. It’s an elaborate construction to recreate a false memory that’s comfortable for advertisers. The movie is a satire, but it’s also a very blatant statement against the nostalgia for a golden age which never existed. It’s a lie. It doesn’t exist.
I don’t know. I’m spitballing. I’m biased because I despise mid-20th century Americana and I naturally treat it with hostility, but it’s very gratifying to see a movie kind of agree with me.
Earlier in the summer, I went to Florida with my friend. We decided to visit a town nearish to where we were staying called Seaside, as we had heard it was a cute place. What I did not know at the time was that Seaside is the place where they filmed The Truman Show. It was a "master-planned community," constructed in the 80s to be the perfect beach town.
Seaside, FL
Seahaven
And yes, it really does look Like That. Not just in their tourist-agency photos, in real life it looks like that. Arguably the irl Seaside is even prettier than movie Seahaven, because the the office buildings where Truman works don't exist; the town is 100% cutesy homes and little shops.
Every single house is pastel with white trim and a white picket fence with the family's name on it in a handwritten font. The streets are paved with red bricks and lined with palmettos, and families bicycle past. The streets are clean, the lawns manicured, the sidewalks pristine.
Soon after we arrive my friend says as we walk, "God I wish I could live in a place like this. Imagine having the money to live in a place like this." I reply, "I don't actually know for me...it's gorgeous don't get me wrong, but there's no grime, you know? Where's the grime? I'd feel uncomfortable. It feels like there's not a dive bar for a hundred miles."
We reach the town center, which is a wide square lined with shops on one side, food trucks on the other. We have a lovely time looking through the shops, though I start feeling kinda weird, and I'm not sure why. Probably the extreme cleanliness of the area is making me feel off-kilter. And the surreal feeling of walking through areas I recognize from The Truman Show only adds to the weirdness.
We go into a clothing store, and it's crowded with people who appear to have stepped out of a Land's End catalog. It sells boring tshirts, shorts, and sundresses in whites and blues, all needlessly expensive. Employees walk through, refolding already-pristine shirts. So perfect. "Anyone buying from here is so rich they can probably smell the poor on us," my friend jokes, "that's why they have so many employees refolding things, it's to fix anything we brush against." "Or even breathe on!" I add.
We continue on to the grocery store where, in the movie, Truman finds Marlon stocking the vending machine and first tells him he suspects his world is wrong. I buy some pasta salad there to eat for lunch (all the cafes are quite expensive), and we find a place to sit and eat. As my friend finishes up her food, I write a postcard to my sister, telling her about my trip overall and my day in Seaside, describing the town as 'vomit-inducingly picturesque.' (It has been weeks since my visit and she still has not received that postcard)
Lunch done, we decide to walk down to the beach and have a swim. And I realize something about the surreal feeling. "Weird question," I say to my friend, "have you seen any non-white people here? Am I imagining that?"
She pauses. "The lady cleaning the bathrooms?" she asks.
"No I mean vacationers. Guests, customers. Other than you, I haven't seen a single one who wasn't white."
"...No. I haven't either."
And now that we see it, we can't unsee it. It's a wealthy area, so I had been expecting it to be pretty white, but the fact that there is not a single nonwhite person who isn't working a service job feels so gross. It's as though the place is somehow still segregated, like we have stepped back in time, but not to the fun, fake, rock-n-roll-and-soda-parlor-nostalgia version of the fifties, but to the real racism-and-repression fifties.
It is so fucking weird and sinister. I feel I have stumbled into another realm. All these people giving us sideeye, riding around on their golf carts in their pristine $45 seaside-branded tshirts, taking pictures of the perfect houses all lined up in perfect rows. A whole town of Meryls wearing lulu lemon.
We walk on. It's hot, and a swim is exactly what we need. Surely they can't ruin the ocean. I myself am extremely excited to swim, because now that we've spent a few hours among the pompous populace, I want to piss in their perfect ocean more than anything in the world.
We walk along behind the beachfront bar patios that line the beach toward the access point, and the ocean looks so blue and inviting. Although the hedge growing between us and the dunes is strangely tall. "Huh," I think. "It's weird that they'd grow it like this, it blocks the view for everyone sitting on the patios."
We arrive at the boardwalk, and there is a man standing there. He says "Hold on! Do you two have a beach access pass?" I look at him in disbelief. It's a public beach, but the sign behind the man says you have to rent a beach chair to use the beach, and it's $35 per person. We glance at each other, turn wordlessly, and head back to town.
I seriously consider trying to sneak onto the beach somehow, because at this point I am very invested in the idea of pissing in their ocean, but I realize that with the tall hedge it would be nigh-impossible.
We went home after that.
So many reviews for Seaside on travel websites mention how they love to visit Seaside because they feel transported, they feel it reflects a "simpler time" or a "peaceful life." It's been weeks and I can't stop thinking about my experience. It really drove home how...complicit people can be in their own ignorance. A lot of people want to live in that perfect bubble, and especially if they have the money, they can maintain that barrier. It reminds me that part of the reason I often have trouble persuading these types of people is because they simply do not want to be persuaded. They're so proud to be the place where The Truman Show was filmed, but I rather doubt they really think about what it means that they live on a movie set, in a surreal dream.
Honestly visiting Seaside was a 10/10 unique experience. I would highly recommend it as a place to go for a couple hours if you're gonna be nearby and want to feel like you've been kidnapped into The Truman Show and/or your brain has been put in an easy bake oven. It's like a zoo for superrich WASPS. We had a really good time loudly making fun of how insane it all was, invading their little paradise with our riffraff energy. Treat it like an excursion into the jungle; you're gonna have to park a half mile away minimum, and bring all your food and water with you so you don't have to buy anything. You don't want to give them any money. They have enough.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, next time I go to the panhandle, I will be going to the nearest free public beach access to Seaside, and I will walk to the Seaside area of the beach, and I will piss in their ocean.
but ykw at least i'm not on mount everest. at least i'm not paying tens of thousands of dollars to slowly suffocate in a 300-person line at the gates of hell. never in my life will i have to be steered in a hypoxic stupor through the maze of poop and corpses atop mount everest. on this earth a lot of horrible things can happen to you without your permission but there are a few that you have to opt into. you can just say no thanks! and be guaranteed never to have to be on mount everest. much to be grateful for actually
"Oh, come on! This is totally gonna stain," Nightwing complained as he wiped at the dubious gunk coating his suit.
"Stop whining, it ain't that big a deal," Hood waved a hand in dismissal.
"Says you!" Nightwing snapped, "What, just cause your clothes are leather and don't stain means you have no sympathy for the rest of us?"
"Hate to break it to you Wing, but leather absolutely stains," Hood replied.
"What? Then why are your clothes always spotless even after a fight with Condiment King?" Nightwing demanded.
Hood nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder, "I have a guy."
"A guy?"
"Yeah, a cleaner guy."
"Why do you have a cleaner guy?"
"I run a crime empire," Hood deadpanned with a flat expression, "I take out drug dealers and pedophiles on a daily basis, you think I clean that shit up myself?"
"Maybe! I don't know how crime stuff works!" Nightwing threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Well I don't," Hood replied matter-of-factly, "That's what Danny's for, he cleans up all my major blood baths and biohazards.
"Huh." Nightwing looked down at his suit and the gloop already soaking deep into the fabric. "...Think Danny could clean this for me?"
"What? No, get your own Danny!"
"But you already have a Danny! Can't I just borrow him?"
"No! If I let you borrow Danny then everyone is gonna wanna borrow Danny and, last I checked, I'm the only one who has him on payroll."
"I can pay! I'll pay whatever you want, just name your price!"
The reason why so many of y'all's feminism sucks is because you still believe deep down in your hearts that there are only two kinds of people in the world: precious, ethereal, fragile dollthings called "women", and violent, lustful, rage-fueled apes called "men". Until you throw that idea away, 3rd-grade-tier "girls rule boys drool, girls are princesses and boys are stinky :(" is as feminist as we'll ever get-- and I hope it's obvious that that's lightyears away from the bare minimum of where we need to be.
artistsuniversum: “Kathin Marchenko is a textile artist and designer known for her expressive embroidery on delicate tulle fabric.
Using a "painting with thread" technique, she creates portraits, anatomical forms, and ethereal figures that seem to float within wooden hoops, blending craft with fine art.”
Artist: @kathrin_marchenko
#art #embroidery #artist #textileart
Dipper Pines @dipperpinesthemanlyman - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
