I wish this was longer
Today in dental comics…
we're not kids anymore.
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Jules of Nature
The Stonewall Inn

#extradirty

titsay

roma★

Love Begins
Game of Thrones Daily

Origami Around
d e v o n
art blog(derogatory)

JVL
sheepfilms
YOU ARE THE REASON
NASA
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Stranger Things

@theartofmadeline
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@jejunemedley-blog
I wish this was longer
Today in dental comics…
what in the fuck does my sister think she’s doing?
god’s work
I think I might have broken my finger reblogging this.
This Is How The Media Chooses To Profile A Female Activist
Cecily McMillan, the 25-year-old Occupy Wall Street activist who was jailed for elbowing a police officer during a protest, returned to court on Thursday, where a cadre of hard-hitting journalists greeted her with questions about her courtroom attire.
“My editor told me to ask who you’re wearing,” a photographer was spotted eagerly asking McMillan, according to The Village Voice.
McMillan, who was earlier this month released from Rikers Island — one of the country’s most notoriously violent jails — explained that although she was free, she no longer felt safe in New York “because I was sexually assaulted and then put in jail for it," according to the Voice. McMillan has alleged from the start that the officer involved in her assault case forcibly grabbed her breast from behind during the protest; after elbowing him, she was promptly arrested and put in jail.
Upon hearing her explanation Thursday, a Post reporter responded, “Well, you look fabulous! But you should eat more.”
The interactions resulted in a blatantly sexist portrayal of McMillan sprinkled with mocking details about her fashion choices — all of which fail to mention that she was asked such questions by the press.
The Daily News went straight to the sartorial details with the headline, “Occupy Wall Street protester wears Calvin Klein to court.”
The Post’s own coverage included a previously dated photo of an emotional McMillan with the caption, “McMillan cries in court in May after being given an outfit she had already worn." The paper led with the headline "Rikers Island: The new way to lose weight.”
Rikers is currently at the center of damning allegations of officer abuse, contraband smuggling by officers, regular beatings of the mentally ill, and corruption.
McMillan has been using her newfound freedom to speak out against the treatment of inmates at Rikers — a cause that is essentially being buried for more important notes on her outfit choices. Well done, New York media!
Happy Valentine's Day!
About 5 years ago, my best friend and I wrote a song about our sad, sad love lives (or lack thereof) and, despite its corny lyrics, it still rings true.
Title: "I Love Cake/Frankly, My Dear"
Heart-shaped boxes, Teddy bears that say I love you Chocolate kisses, Roses are red and violets are blue Moonlight dances, And lovey dovey rhymes But cupid's arrow misses me every time
I once asked a guy to be my valentine He laughed and said, "That's a joke, right?" Lonely days without a hand to hold No one to give me their parka when I'm cold
[chorus] Valentine's is here once more No one saying I'm forever yours Watching chick flicks on the tube But my happy endings never come true
Staring out my bedroom window Wondering if he'll ever show He's the jelly on my toast He's the one that I want most
Walking through the park, walking through the street Stranger come and sweep me off my feet Will I ever be the one (two three four) [chorus]
heat.
It's cold outside.
I have to turn on the heat to keep warm. My upstair neighbors just have sex.
Fuckers.
Show off your thrifty ways, why don't you?
If you’re a boy writer, it’s a simple rule: you’ve gotta get used to the fact that you suck at writing women and that the worst women writer can write a better man than the best male writer can write a good woman. And it’s just the minimum. Because the thing about the sort of heteronormative masculine privilege, whether it’s in Santo Domingo, or the United States, is you grow up your entire life being told that women aren’t human beings, and that women have no independent subjectivity. And because you grow up with this, it’s this huge surprise when you go to college and realize that, “Oh, women aren’t people who does my shit and fucks me.” And I think that this a huge challenge for boys, because they want to pretend they can write girls. Every time I’m teaching boys to write, I read their women to them, and I’m like, “Yo, you think this is good writing?” These motherfuckers attack each other over cliche lines but they won’t attack each other over these toxic representations of women that they have inherited… their sexist shorthand, they think that is observation. They think that their sexist distortions are insight. And if you’re in a writing program and you say to a guy that their characters are sexist, this guy, it’s like you said they fucking love Hitler. They will fight tooth and nail because they want to preserve this really vicious sexism in the art because that is what they have been taught. And I think the first step is to admit that you, because of your privilege, have a very distorted sense of women’s subjectivity. And without an enormous amount of assistance, you’re not even going to get a D. I think with male writers the most that you can hope for is a D with an occasional C thrown in. Where the average women writer, when she writes men, she gets a B right off the bat, because they spent their whole life being taught that men have a subjectivity. In fact, part of the whole feminism revolution was saying, “Me too, motherfuckers.” So women come with it built in because of the society. It’s the same way when people write about race. If you didn’t grow up being a subaltern person in the United States, you might need help writing about race. Motherfuckers are like ‘I got a black boy friend,’ and their shit sounds like Klan Fiction 101. The most toxic formulas in our cultures are not pass down in political practice, they’re pass down in mundane narratives. It’s our fiction where the toxic virus of sexism, racism, homophobia, where it passes from one generation to the next, and the average artist will kill you before they remove those poisons. And if you want to be a good artist, it means writing, really, about the world. And when you write cliches, whether they are sexist, racist, homophobic, classist, that is a fucking cliche. And motherfuckers will kill you for their cliches about x, but they want their cliches about their race, class, queerness. They want it in there because they feel lost without it. So for me, this has always been the great challenge. As a writer, if you’re really trying to write something new, you must figure out, with the help of a community, how can you shed these fucking received formulas. They are received. You didn’t come up with them. And why we need fellow artists is because they help us stay on track. They tell you, “You know what? You’re a bit of a fucking homophobe.” You can’t write about the world with these simplistic distortions. They are cliches. People know art, always, because they are uncomfortable. Art discomforts. The trangressiveness of art has to deal with confronting people with the real. And sexism is a way to avoid the real, avoiding the reality of women. Homophobia is to avoid the real, the reality of queerness. All these things are the way we hide from encountering the real. But art, art is just about that.
- Junot Diaz speaking at Word Up Bookshop, 2012 (via ofgrammatology)
Fictitious Dishes, Famous Meals From Literature by Dinah Fried
Gordo: setting the bar impossibly high for men since 2000
simsationales:
DEAD.
This is why I love my city... and by my city I mean the city that I'm trying my very best to live in.