Three Goblin Art
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle
Origami Around
wallacepolsom
oozey mess
Xuebing Du
if i look back, i am lost
Show & Tell
roma★
★
ojovivo
blake kathryn
Monterey Bay Aquarium
dirt enthusiast
Andulka
Sade Olutola
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
@theartofmadeline
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@ellayurman
i think it’s funny when someone acts really angry about something you say online. could be whatever. and you check their profile and go. oh wait. you’re literally 14. nevermind. talking about this with you is like 100% useless. and they go “my age has nothing to do with this” like actually your age has everything to do with this. when you are 14 literally everything is influenced by how fucking 14 years old you are.
i literally don’t care if you have social anxiety you still need social skills
actually developing social skills is what will help your social anxiety
People having social anxiety doesn't affect you at all, shut the fuck up
i have social anxiety that does affect me that’s why i made the post stupid ass
Well maybe write it on the post instead of making it look like you're insulting people for no reason about something that can't be helped
maybe learn some social skills bc it can be helped
Actually I love that Tolkien decided to include Tom Bombadil. What an amazingly unhinged decision. Literally 5 minutes out of the Shire Merry & Pippin almost get eaten by a sentient evil willow tree but there's just Some Guy who's In Charge of the trees and tells it to let them out. He's older than elves and the river is his wife. Also he's immune to the ring, the thing that the preceding 120 pages and following 800 pages are entirely about and he literally never shows up again. Everyone's like "oh he's God" and Tolkien was like NO he's not God he's literally just a Guy and I don't know what he's doing there either he just wants to be. Incredible. No notes.
do you see this shit my liege
okay everyone cash in your reblogs for this post now because im gonna make it unrebloggable on its 1 year anniversary (dec 9th). have fun w it <3
the mcu is the “the curtains are just blue” of cinematic experiences
Is that why it’s so good?
YOU
f scott fitzgerald scared to say god himself is watching nick carraway and his band of socialite hedonists so he makes up an optometrist billboard constantly overlooking them (out of fear, hes scared)
michael crichton throwing out a version of jurassic park that just says “science, without restraint, can be dangerous. and dinosaurs are cool”
edgar allen poe’s first draft of telltale heart: “if you kill someone…..you might feel bad about it/:” but he starts trembling looking at it and says “no…..i’m too much of a pussy…to say this”
“A debt to the fae must always be paid,” the old man said. His eyes glistened with tears as he looked to the full moon overhead. “And the cost is always severe.”
There were murmurs from the others around the fire. Men and women who gathered to hear the wise man speak knew the reality of what he said intimately.
“I owe all my gold,” one man said.
“Then you must remove the gold from your vaults and strip every filigree from your home,” the wise one said.
“I owe my blood,” one woman said.
“Then your blood must be spilled within a fairy ring,” the wise one said.
“My debt is to be paid in flesh,” another attendee cried.
“Then your flesh you must divest—“
“Bullshit. Propaganda!” a woman called from the tree line. She pointed a finger at each person in turn. “You’re buying into it by even entertaining the idea of paying them back.”
“I have lived many years,” the wise old man said, “and every debt I attempted to evade came back many time worse.”
“Sounds like you weren’t fast enough,” the woman said, stepping out into the light. The sweat on her forehead glimmered in the moonlight like morning dew. She jerked a thumb towards her chest. “Me? I’m fast as fuck. I’ve been outrunning my debts for years.”
The wise one gaped. “That’s not— you can’t—“ he turned to his audience. “She is speaking lies.”
His audience hesitated.
“I would personally like to avoid being divested of my flesh,” one attendee offered hesitantly.
There were murmurs of agreement.
“Then stretch up, bud,” the woman said over the wise one’s protests. “We’re running tonight.”
The wise one stared as his audience fled into the night. “Y-you’ll all die!”
“Not me,” the woman howled from deep within the woods. “I’m fast as fuck, boiiiiiii!”
What we’ve gotta understand is that “the modern Internet is abolishing spaces for adults” and “the modern Internet is abolishing space for children” are compatible phenomena. Neither group is being favoured: the modern Internet is abolishing spaces for adults (i.e., because grown-up topics aren’t advertiser friendly) and the modern Internet is abolishing spaces for children (i.e., because online communities which consist principally of people who have no money are hard to sell things to). The Internet that contemporary corporate interests are trying to build isn’t a space for anyone – it’s the digital equivalent of an Ikea showroom.
Like, when I say that the greater part of contemporary social media is fundamentally hostile to human life, I’m not indulging in hyperbole or constructing an ironic metaphor. I mean that 100% literally.
"Hi y'all, it's Chronomaster42, the only Youtuber with the ability to travel through, and control, time and space, here with another taste test. I'm here in 1976, and I'm gonna get some fries from Mickey D's before they changed the recipe, and then I'm gonna take 'em back to 2022, and get fries from the same McDonald's, so I can compare. Now, I've got my Nixon, uh, Ford? Carter? Era fries right here, so now I'm gonna"
*everything appears stretched and distant, and then the camera flies through space, through the sun, over millions of different Earths, past the faces of individual people in a thousand different timelines, splintered day by day, the long-dead alive once more, their varied futures lying before them. They appear to be screaming*
"annnnnd here we are, gettin' the new fries, today. I have to say, I like the old fries a bit better, bit more crisp, but Mickey D's fries are still Mickey D's fries, y'know? Anyway, I know some of you guys were freaked out at all the screaming time faces last video, but like, I'm used to 'em, and they aren't even audible to me? But y'know what is audible? That's right - Audible, use code -"
There’s a reason mandatory public (which just means “state run”) schooling took off around the time of the industrial revolution, & it’s because capitalists realized they needed to get people used to the idea of doing small, meaningless, repetitive tasks 8-12 hours a day early. Any time you try to point out that there might be problems with this system, dozens of people chime in going “lol anarkiddies don’t wanna do homework” but public education is unambiguously part of proletarianization. I didn’t think that was an @ or ultra-left talking point.
considering the fact that industrialists were employing children as young as 6 years old and mandatory schooling had a pretty big effect on lowering child labor rates i think I can comfortably say this is not true. actually this is the opposite of the truth
public education systems in america suck, but not everything is a conspiracy. industrialists would rather have you uneducated and working from childhood. the fight for public education was (and still is) a big deal, not something that capitalists orchestrated
So, okay, fun fact. When I was a freshman in high school… let me preface by saying my dad sent me to a private school and, like a bad organ transplant, it didn’t take. I was miserable, the student body hated me, I hated them, it was awful.
Okay, so, freshman year, I’m deep in my “everything sucks and I’m stuck with these assholes” mentality. My English teacher was a notorious hard-ass, let’s call him Mr. Hargrove. He was the guy every student prayed they didn’t get. And, on top of ALL OF THE SHIT I WAS ALREADY DEALING WITH, I had him for English.
One of the laborious assignments he gave us was to keep a daily journal. Daily! Not monthly or weekly. Fucking daily. Handwritten. And we had to turn it in every quarter and he fucking graded us. He graded us on a fucking journal.
All of my classmates wrote shit like what they did that day or whatever. But, I did not. No, sir. I decided to give the ol’ middle finger to the assignment and do my own shit.
So, for my daily journal entries, over the course of an entire year, I wrote a serialized story about a horde of man-eating slugs that invaded a small mining town. It was graphic, it was ridiculous, it was an epic feat of rebellion.
And Mr. Hargrove loved it.
It wasn’t just the journal. Every assignment he gave us, I tried to shit all over it. Every reading assignment, everyone gushed about how good it was, but I always had a negative take. Every writing assignment, people wrote boring prose, but I wrote cheesy limericks or pulp horror stories.
Then, one day, he read one of my essays to the class as an example of good writing. When a fellow student asked who wrote it, he said, “Some pipsqueak.”
And that’s when I had a revelation. He wanted to fight. And since all the other students were trying to kiss his ass, I was his only challenger.
Mr. Hargrove and I went head-to-head on every assignment, every conversation, every fucking thing. And he ate it up. And so did I.
One day, he read us a column from the Washington Post and asked the class what was wrong with it. Everyone chimed in with their dumbass takes, but I was the one who landed on Mr. Hargrove’s complaint: The reporter had BRAZENLY added the suffix “ize” to a verb.
That night I wrote a jokey letter to the reporter calling him out on the offense in which I added “ize” to every single verb. I gave it to Mr. Hargrove, who by then had become a friendly adversary, for a chuckle and he SENT IT TO THE REPORTER.
And, people… The reporter wrote back. And he said I was an exceptional student. Mr. Hargrove and I had a giggle about that because we both knew I was just being an asshole, but he and the reporter acknowledged I had a point.
And that was it. That was the moment. Not THAT EXACT moment, but that year with Mr. Hargrove taught me I had a knack for writing. And that knack was based in saying “fuck you” to authority. (The irony that someone in a position of authority helped me realize that is not lost on me.)
So, I can say without qualification that Mr. Hargrove is the reason I am now a professional writer. Yes, I do it for a living. And most of my stuff takes authorities of one kind or another to task.
Mr. Hargrove showed me my dissent was valid, my rebellion was righteous, and that killer slugs could bring a city to its knees. Someone just needs to write it.
Why is "pharmacy tech" part of the insult when that's one of the most important and dependable jobs in the country
real romance is just being deeply stupid together. i dream of one day meeting someone i can be deeply stupid with and not feel embarrassed
imagine being able to listen to carry on my wayward son, objectively a fucking banger of a song, without inflicting psychic damage on yourself
how DARE you keep this in the tags
it’s funny bc milk does actually come from a creature
evidence?
your mom told me lol. boys, waste this numbnuts
it’ll never pass.
hey guys did we actually cancel cringe culture or did we just replace it with the slightly more elaborate ritual of ascribing objective moral value to works of fiction and making sure anyone who likes something Bad knows they should be ashamed of it
