Cosmic Funnies
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izzy's playlists!
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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Cosimo Galluzzi
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@holyhandprinted
A. imagine your otp
B. dear gods this country has massive issues
I’ve been looking for this post for ages
listen, I’ve read enough fanfic to know that they’re not getting divorced, but it’ll take about 35k of pining to figure that out.
Confession: I used to belong to trump culture.
Not entirely willingly, mind. I was young, religious, and I made the naïve mistake in thinking that all Christians were like the ones I had encountered at my home church: warm, tolerant, kind. I fell in love, and we did what young, hormonal Christian teenagers did: rushed into a marriage.
I realized my mistake almost immediately, but it took far too long to get out.
Personally, I endured abuse at the hands of my new husband—mental, physical, sexual, economic, emotional. You name it, he did it. Brutal is an understatement. He systematically broke me down until I was a shell of a human being. I’m still dealing with the emotional fallout and physical side effects, and I probably will be for another decade at least.
That’s personally, but let’s talk his family. Because he was an extreme case, yes, but he was raised with the idea that women existed to keep their mouths shut and their legs open. I spit out two children faster than I could whip my head, because birth control wasn’t part of god’s grand plan for my life. I was fulfilling my purpose as a mother, and wasn’t that great? My husband didn’t want the first baby. He wanted me for himself, see? Abortion was unthinkable, but he fully expected to carry a baby—my baby—to term, then give it away.
Keeping him was my first rebellion. Keeping the next one was my second.
In the time I belonged to that family, I watched my mother-in-law endure the same, though less extreme mistreatment. I watched every young female family member be groped by the family patriarch. “That’s just how it is.” I was shamed for making a fuss about it. I watched an older cousin try to sexually assault my teenage sister-in-law and she was the one who felt ashamed. We women made family dinners while the men sat on their asses. My husband and I lived with his parents for a short time. She and I would go to work each morning—an hour each way—with our husbands sitting in their robes in the living room, playing video games. When we returned hours later, weary, exhausted, they hadn’t moved. The standard greeting? “What’s for dinner.”
That’s his family, and yes, some families are sexist, but let’s talk about church. That’s where all of this is validated, encouraged, taught. Imagine my shock, when I went to my new husbands’ family church and encountered muted xenophobia and racism, a heavy dose of homophobia, and some damned overt sexism (see above.)
Equal roles, but different. Sound familiar? This is still being taught to little girls today.
In church, I listened with quiet disgust as pastors preached about how awful my sister—one of the gays—was. I piped up and asked how that sexual sin was any different than the two young church kids who’d just been caught “in a bad way”, soon to expect their first baby. Sexual sin is sexual sin, isn’t it? I sure did get an earful for that one. We did church boycotts: Disney, Target. Every Sunday School class: Job, cookies, and lets pray God saves the moos-lims before they all come over and blow us up. We revered people with white savior complexes who went to be jesus’s hands and feet and save the poor, helpless Africans.
Hate and ignorance, wrapped up in the holy Scripture. Hallelujah.
Meanwhile, I endured this abuse. This abuse, and every door slammed in my face as my husband hit me, tortured me. “Stay true to your vows,” the pastor would say. “You have communication issues,” our sister-in-law would tell us. My mother-in-law: “Linds, you just have to accept it. Love is a choice.”
“But what about the part where it says that husbands are to love their wives like Christ loves the church?” I asked.
My brother in law, joking: “This is why women aren’t supposed to speak in church.”
This America is alive and kicking, kids. It’s never gone away; it’s just been lurking, behind closed doors. “Pass the casual racism and meat loaf, would you? And get me a glass of water while you’re up. Ketchup, too.” What I’m scared about, truly, is that I know this. And these ideas are now validated. Now mainstream. Almost 50% of our population believes this is a good idea.
“It’s our time to take America back.”
What in the hell, if they’ve been saying these things behind closed doors, and if they believe them In The Name Of God—what in the hell are they going to say in the open, now? What in the hell are they going to do?
The 50s are revered as the aspirational yester-year, days gone by. Progress, as we call it, is godlessness to them. We, the godless libs, took Jesus out of schools. We’ve gone wrong ever since.
This is the America people want back, and that’s my first fear.
The second is this:
I got out. And I’m terrified that this, my success story, won’t happen anymore.
I’m the rare statistic. I un-brainwashed and educated myself. I got counseling (against every Christian advice) to treat severe post-partum depression. In the process of becoming a healthier person, I realized what a goddamn mess I was.
It took three tries and a pastor-pseudo-therapist legitimately telling me, “You know if he hits you again, Linds, I’m going to have to tell you to leave.”
All regretful, like it was bad news.
“Why should I stick around and wait for it to happen again?” I asked.
He didn’t have an answer. I left the next week.
It took a few boldfaced lies (it’s temporary, it’s just a separation), and a few miracles, and a large support system of family and friends who all but plucked me out of that hell.
For leaving? My price was excommunication. From his family, our friends, our church. I am the heathen who Divorced my Husband and broke our home. In that entire city, only three people talk to me now.
(No loss, but it took a long time to recognize that.)
I never, ever would have made it on my own. I had two small children, a new job that barely paid a living wage, and I was, as I’ve said, a shell of a human being. I left him and went straight to the human services office. Without subsidized childcare, healthcare, and food supplements, we would have starved or been homeless. It never would have been possible.
These are the services that will probably be cut first.
How will anyone in my situation ever be able to leave? They won’t. Not to mention federal funding for shelters, crisis counseling for families, healthcare for abused women, and legal services for domestic violence victims. Throw in a court system that doesn’t value women, and a cultural mentality that believes what happens behind closed doors should stay behind closed doors… What hope do abused, trapped women have? None in hell.
If this is what makes America great again, I want out. I’ve been there, done that, and I’m never, ever doing it again.
You’ll take it back over my cold, lifeless body.
This is the dark, dirty secret of Amerika: Women are not free.
At this point, I just assume (or at least suspect) any man caping for rapists/abusers/etc is also one himself.
So I’ve seen the post he’s talking about around tumblr and twitter, but haven’t seen this on tumblr. I think it’s worth sharing.
(Also remember: do *not* pet service dogs!)
Flint. Still. Has. No. Clean. Water.
Human rights violation and this is getting almost no continued media coverage.
djhfsehfbjweh
Headcanon that McGonagall is offended on a personal level that Umbridge loves cats.
This literally got 600 more notes just while I was at dinner what the fuck
How has nobody thought about this before tbh
Ok but imagine McGonagall in cat form prowling around the castle, in strategically chosen places so that Umbridge will come across her.
Umbridge takes the cat back to her office and feeds it a little saucer of milk. The cat starts coming back to Umbridge’s office around the same time every night, until eventually Umbridge gets into a little routine of setting out a saucer of milk for the cat before bed. McGonagall now has all the best secrets on Umbridge, all of the results of the evaluations, and most importantly, is in a perfect position to spy on the ministry for the Order of the Phoenix.
All because Umbridge is obsessed with cats.
The mental image McGonagall lapping up that milk while full of burning hatred for Umbridge amuses me in ways I can hardly describe.
This tweet is so important.
Why is this even a question? How is your child meant to learn to apologize when you don’t do it yourself as a parent?
Should people apologize to people?
vulture out here doing god’s work
You are a ghost haunting your ex for cheating on you; and they are scared af. One day, you take it a little too far and they die of a heart attack. Suddenly you are both ghosts and have to deal with each other. It’s awkward. Very awkward.
I do find it funny that lesbians are perceived as man-hating but gay men are not perceived as woman-hating, and in fact are often illogically shielded from accusations of misogyny simply by being gay
I’m watching that documentary “Before Stonewall” about gay history pre-1969, and uncovered something which I think is interesting.
The documentary includes a brief clip of a 1954 televised newscast about the rise of homosexuality. The host of the program interviewed psychologists, a police officer, and one “known homosexual”. The “known homosexual” is 22 years old. He identifies himself as Curtis White, which is a pseudonym; his name is actually Dale Olson.
So I tracked down the newscast. According to what I can find, Dale Olson may have been the first gay man to appear openly on television and defend his sexual orientation. He explains that there’s nothing wrong with him mentally and he’s never been arrested. When asked whether he’d take a cure if it existed, he says no. When asked whether his family knows he’s gay, he says that they didn’t up until tonight, but he guesses they’re going to find out, and he’ll probably be fired from his job as well. So of course the host is like …why are you doing this interview then? and Dale Olson, cool as cucumber pie, says “I think that this way I can be a little useful to someone besides myself.”
1954. 22 years old. Balls of pure titanium.
Despite the pseudonym, Dale’s boss did indeed recognize him from the TV program, and he was promptly fired the next day. He wrote into ONE magazine six months later to reassure readers that he had gotten a new job at a higher salary.
Curious about what became of him, I looked into his life a little further. It turns out that he ultimately became a very successful publicity agent. He promoted the Rocky movies and Superman. Not only that, but get this: Dale represented Rock Hudson, and he was the person who convinced him to disclose that he had AIDS! He wrote the statement Rock read. And as we know, Rock Hudson’s disclosure had a very significant effect on the national conversation about AIDS in the U.S.
It appears that no one has made the connection between Dale Olson the publicity agent instrumental in the AIDS debate and Dale Olson the 22-year-old first openly gay man on TV. So I thought I’d make it. For Pride month, an unsung gay hero.
dude had guts, someone needs to update his Wikipedia page
people seem to have trouble understanding why i’m an anti-capitalist, so i’m going to try and put it into simple, real-life terms.
i work at a restaurant. i make $12 an hour, plus tips. minimum wage where i live is relatively high for my country - the national minimum wage is $7.25/hr, and has not been raised since 2009. before taxes, working full time, my yearly income is about $22,000 a year. ($25,000 if you count tips)
at my job, we sell various dishes, with an average price of about $10-$15. we get printouts every week detailing how much money we made that week; in one week, our restaurant makes about $30,000. (one of our other locations actually makes this much on a daily basis!)
i’m not going to go into details, but after the costs of production (payroll for employees, rent for the building, maintenance, and wholesale food purchasing) are accounted for, the restaurant makes an estimated profit of $20,000 per week.
this profit goes directly to the owner, who does not work at this location. the owner of my restaurant has actually been on vacation for a few months, but still profits from the restaurant, because they own it. i have met the owner exactly twice in my year of working here.
to put this into perspective, the owner of this restaurant earns in 2 days what they pay me in one year. and that’s just from this single location - the owner has several other restaurants, all of which make more money than the one i work at. this ends up resulting in the owner having an estimated net worth of tens of millions of dollars, even after accounting for the payroll for every single worker in their employ.
now, i have to ask you: does the owner of my restaurant deserve this income? did they earn it? did their labor result in this value being created?
the naive answer would be “yes”; the owner purchased the location and arranged for the raw ingredients to be delivered, did they not?
the actual answer is “no”. the owner may have used their initial capital to start the location, but the profit is a result of my labor, and the labor of my co-workers.
the owner purchases rice at a very low bulk price of about 25 cents a pound. i cook the rice, and within a few minutes, that pound of rice is suddenly worth about $30. the owner did not create this value, i did. the owner simply provided the initial capital investment required to start the process.
what needs to be understood here is that capitalists do not create value. they use the labor of their employees to create value, and then take the excess profit and keep it.
what needs to be understood is that capitalists accrue income by already HAVING money. the owner of my restaurant was only able to get this far because they started off, from the very beginning, with enough money to purchase a building, purchase food in bulk, and hire hundreds of employees.
that is to say: the rich get richer, and they do so by exploiting the labor of the poor.
the owner of my restaurant could afford to triple the income of every single person in their employee if they felt like it, but this would mean that they were generating less profit for themselves, so they do not.
the owner of my restaurant pays me the current minimum wage of my area, because to them, i am not a person. i am an investment. i am an asset. i am a means to create more money.
when you are paid minimum wage, the message your boss is sending you is this: “legally, if i could pay you less, i would.”
every capitalist on the planet exploits their workers for their own gain. every capitalist, even the small business owners, forces people to stay in poverty so that the capitalist can profit.
Yep.
“Babies only cry if they are hungry, need changing, or need to be picked up”
Lies
Babies (and small children) also cry for reasons such as:
1. “I am tired and that makes me angry”
2. “I scared myself with a fart”
3. “You are the wrong parent”
4. “I ran into something with my face”
5. “I’m facing the opposite direction then the one I want to”
6. “I fell asleep in one place and woke up somewhere completely different”
7. “I am a very small person in a very big world”
8. “I got scared because YOU farted”
Babies have more then 3 states of being and sometimes you just have to hold them and bounce them gently while saying solemnly “yes it is very hard to be a baby” because frankly it is
you have to remember that when you’re that tiny… pretty much any bad thing that happens to you is LITERALLY the WORST thing that has ever happened in your life. they have no perspective. everything is awful. help them
#everything is happening for the first time and they cant even google it
Citizens in Puerto Rico laid shoes at the San Juan capitol to represent lost loved ones not counted in the official government death toll. The number is estimated to be 4,645, the official US government number is 64.
@takingbackourculture
@pocblog
