cheetah in House perfec t size for put inside! inside very Soft and Comfort cheetah sleep soundly put cheetah in House. Put Cheetah In House. no problems ever in cheetah in ho use because good Happy and Satisfy for human where sleep. House yes a place for a cheetah put cheetah in house can trust cheetah for giveing good love to humans in house. friend cheetah
I mean, as someone who as worked in a zoo, this is fairly true.
Obvious disclaimer that you shouldn't have wild animals as pets.
But like, cheetahs are the only large cats that keepers will do free contact with. Hell, even most small cats don't get free contact. (Because small cats can be VICIOUS. They'll have a baby pallas cat wearing thicker gloves than when handling an owl. Because small cats can just be vicious.)
Like I think the only other cat at our zoo where I've seen free contact with was servals? Because I know they've used servals in shows to demonstrate their natural jumping ability. But I know servals can sometimes have a mean temper as well. Meanwhile they'll do the cheetah run and afterwards put the mic by the cheetahs and it's just like an engine with them purring. It's fascinating to watch when the message in every other large animal is "no free contact because it's dangerous even when they're born in captivity".
Legit if any wild animal could be adapted to a pet it would be cheetahs lmao. Only problem is they can be skittish and very anxious and that's why they're often raised around dogs in zoos to gain confidence.
"There's an underlying rage that comes out sometimes. And it's 'What are you getting all mad about? Nobody did anything to you.' But they wiped out my family. I would have liked to have known some of these people."
-Billy Joel, talking about his family history with the Holocaust.
Rewatching Truman Show for the first time in a long time, and the detail thatās stuck with me this time is the set design.
The characters drive modern cars and hock modern products, but itās all presented with a veneer of 1950s wholesome applecheeked Americana. Trumanās life is presented as an escape for the audience from the drudgery of the modern day, and the aesthetic theyāve chosen for this is the post-war economic boom. This is the simple time, the movie says. This is the good time. Doesnāt the modern day suck? Letās go back and see our friends from the days when life was good.
And itās a lie. Trumanās life is a lie, and the image of white picket fenced suburbia theyāve presented is a lie. Itās an elaborate construction to recreate a false memory thatās comfortable for advertisers. The movie is a satire, but itās also a very blatant statement against the nostalgia for a golden age which never existed. Itās a lie. It doesnāt exist.
I donāt know. Iām spitballing. Iām biased because I despise mid-20th century Americana and I naturally treat it with hostility, but itās 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.
Idk what abled person needs to hear this but for the love of god if youre interacting with a wheelchair userāparticularly a stranger or someone who is merely a professional acquaintanceādont fucking touch their chair. Dont lean on it, dont grab the handles, dont just treat it like any other object or furniture. Even if we disregard that youre possibly going to be moving them or holding them in place when doing this, the chair is their mobility device, thats their legs. If you wouldn't touch or lean on that person's shoulder dont fucking grab their wheelchair??? Especially without permission??? Especially when you've been asked specifically not to??? Its their personal space, it is not a piece of furniture, treat it as such
Going to add something here as a few people in the notes don't know the significance of the date here, or think this might be a dig at Sesame Street somehow - on November 18th, 2003, there was an absolutely landmark legal case in the state of Massachusetts that ruled that civil unions in that state needed to be given the same rights as marriage. This was HUGE - gay marriage was not legally recognized in any state at the time, and civil unions were the closest you could get. This is a WONDERFULLY hopeful, sweet comic drawn five whole days after an enormous, major step forward for gay marriage POSSIBLY being legal. Massachusetts wouldn't even properly legalize gay marriage until May 2004, and it was the first state to do so.
You can Google Goodridge v Department of Public Health for more details.
And talking about how the new frizz her is her niece, allow me to do a direct side by side instead
These are STILL not the same woman. Where is the icon fashion, the earrings (the chameleon, which might be in the new show idk I haven't watched it), the prominent hooked nose, the broader shoulders, the volume to her hair, the LIFE IN HER EYES
This frizzle looks like she's been called into the school board for inappropriate behavior and dress one too many times and has been broken.
Also others have said it before me but I couldn't find it in the scroll backs but they whitewashed all the kids too. They same face syndromed everyone to either be easier to draw or be more ambiguous so as not to offend or both or something, and it just makes me sad
Vector puppet animation and a shocking drop off in investment in kidvid is largely at fault, but international marketing is also to blame.
What's important to remember is that the whitewashy approach to character design in kidvid is a backslide.
Representation in cartoons had generally been on an upswing since the 1980s, even though efforts were often minimal, clumsy, or badly executed. Diversity helped sell action figures in the lucrative US/Canadian market and it was recognized as a prosocial value on the production side.
"Prosocial messages" are a major part of kidvid TV pitches and development, nearly every show has specific prosocial lessons the narrative themes are intended to work around, even if its an action-figure ad. These range from sincere expressions of the creator's intent (Gargoyles, OG Magic Schoolbus, OG He-Man (no, for real)) to the entertainment equivalent of carbon credits.
Slight aside. Actual ink-and-paint animation tended to lock characters down into more distinct tones because there were only so many standard paint colors. Which is why Kwame from Captain Planet, Roadblock from GI-Joe, and Tim from OG magic schoolbus all use essentially the same pantone.
Ralphie gets skinny because not only fatphobia, but I suspect because he would need slightly different rigging and would add just a teensy bit to the budget adjusting his animations when they could just copy-paste from one of the other identically built kids. If they need to put them all in spacesuits or diving suits or whatever, they just make the one body and slap the heads on, eazy-pezy.
Decals on the schoolbus mean they have to be tracked, they have to use different versions of the bus in flipped shots, same with Mrs. Frizzle's clothing patterns. Wouldn't want to spend time flipping Ralphie's "R' around.
And with the marketing for everything now being global, there's an impulse to average everything down to appeal to all markets to a general degree. Making stories oversimple makes them easy to translate. Humor varies culture to culture, keep it slapstick or quick quips that can be localized easily. Everything that makes the Chinese censor boards happy also makes US reactionaries less likely to kick up a protest, the incentive is to keep everything:
ALSO: These characters have the same face. They probably use the same eye and mouth parts for character animations.
It's all to do it as cheap and broadly appealing as possible, as determined by business weirdos who know nothing about art and care nothing about kids, and they're more than willing to leverage racism (or just ignore that its happening) for the promise of a tenth of a percent more profit.
And what's galling is that this kind of animation software doesn't have to make crap. It can be used to make amazing stuff and still be vastly cheaper than traditional hand-drawn, but the same quality at 60% of the cost is never going to beat 1/2 the quality at 5% of the cost for the money-men.
The path of least resistance rolls over a lot of people.
There's a stranger sleeping opposite to me on my train ride home. He was there when I got on, and as I sat down I asked him if this was his station. He said no, his station is only the third last one. I told him I can wake him up there, I'm going to the end of the line anyway so I have no problem keeping track of them for him.
So now my job for the time being and the duration of this train ride is to look out for this random guy and also make sure that nobody wakes him up before his station. This is my stranger now and I'm ready to fight another stranger to defend my stranger. This is my task and duty now.
Reading reviews for havdalah candles written by unsuspecting Christian housewives who bought them to use for dinner candles is my new passion. Iāll be laughing for an eternity.
For my goyische followers: Havdalah is a service to mark the end of shabbat and the beginning of the week. The flame is big so that everyone at the service can see it. You also only have it lit for a few minutes before extinguishing it (traditionally in wine). They are not table candles. My guess is that these people bought them because theyāre pretty and braided without knowing or caring what theyāre used for.
For my Jewish followers: the goyim are at it again.
Iāve been piecing together my family tree lately and while I knew that my family was likely badly affected by the Holocaust it is an entirely different experience to see that almost all of the branches of my family except for my direct line were completely wiped out.
On my dadās side, both my great grandparents were the youngest of 8 children. All 14 of their collective siblings were killed in the Holocaust. And these siblings were adults, they each had their own sets of children, all of whom were murdered, too (as far as my family knows). Not to mention that the last letter my great grandmother ever received from her mother in Poland was her mother telling her that she was being put on a train but didnāt know where it was going.
On my momās side, one of my great great grandmothers came from Kovno in the early 1900s, leaving the rest of her family behind. And while we donāt know much about that family, this is the history of Kovno during World War 2:
Kovno had a rich and varied Jewish culture. Learn about the Soviet and German occupations of Kovno, ghettoization, secret archives, and resi
My momās other great grandmother was one of 7 siblings; her and her sister came over to the U.S. from a shetl outside modern-day Vilnius. Iām sure you can guess what happened to her parents and the other remaining 5 of her siblings (and most of their children, except for one, who ended up ināyou guessed itāIsrael afterwards).
Anyway, idk why Iām writing this post up. Iām just heartbroken and angry because nothing has really changed. Antisemitism has been allowed to fester to the point where the mainstream āmoralā opinion is literal Nazi propaganda. People are celebrating killing the Jews who survived the Holocaust, and stealing and appropriating our trauma to lie that we deserve it. Itās unforgivable. Itās evil. And itās everywhere.
Itās horrific and Iām so sorry. Itās weird to feel grateful for pogroms, but without them my family would have stayed in a town that was completely wiped out by the nazis.
It's absolutely important to recognize trans people as a very very vulnerable demographic to the fash and often *one of* their first targets but I just saw a post saying the nazis came for trans people first & that feels... inaccurate. I mean. Pretty famously their main thing was jews
They Did destroy a lot of knowledge and set the progress being made in the 1920s back by decades & we need to recognize patterns in history & etc I completely agree but also we can't be forgetting that Nazis' Main Thing Is Jews
Queer gentiles I'm grabbing your shoulders rn. Gripping a little tighter than is comfortable for either of us. You do not have to be the main character of the holocaust for your oppression to matter
Yes they burnt the library of the Institut fĆ¼r Sexualwissenschaft, but what many queer goyim conveniently leave out is that Magnus Hirschfeld was Jewish. He was targeted because he was a Jew. Most men (& those assigned as men) targeted & imprisoned under the pink triangle were also Jews. You don't have to write Jews out of our own history for yours to also matter.
many years ago, when my father was a young man, he was living in London, and he was not doing so in the strictly legal sense. plus he was squatting, and one of his roommates was a burglar. like, full on breaking into homes and stealing TVs kind of guy. not a group of people who wanted to attract the attention of police.
so one day, my dad dropped that roommate off at work (someone's house, I assume), and went to drive back to their squat on his roommate's motorcycle. let's assume the vehicle itself was of questionable legality, and my dad for sure didn't have a license to drive it. let alone anything that said that he was allowed to be in England in the first place. and my dad
gets caught
in a roundabout.
he cannot figure out how to get out. he hadn't been in the country too long, and was still figuring out how to navigate all of the weird things that for sure did not exist in Israel or Greece or anywhere else he had lived. and you know what? fair. I DID grow up in a country with those cursed circles, and I struggle with them sometimes myself.
now in this particular roundabout, there was a police car parked at the center, and those police officers watched him go around two times. and he figured that if he went around a third time, the police would pull him over and ask for documentation that he did not have.
now, another fact about my dad is that he has balls of steel. this man has made many choices that I would describe as....unwise. many of those choices involve brashly making illegal choices right in front of authority figures, and then talking himself out of them like a snake oil salesman.
so my dad. he drives that motorcycle right up to the cops at the center of that roundabout, and he says "excuse me. I'm a foreigner in your country, and I'm stuck in this roundabout. can you help me get out?"
and who would do that if they had anything to hide? that is a move made by someone who believes that police always act in his best interest. nothing suspicious going on here!
so he got escorted out of the roundabout by a police car, was bid good day by the helpful copper, and took himself back to his illegal dwelling on an illegal motorcycle which he was illegally driving in a country he was illegally living in, where he proceeded to do many more of the things that add up to his lore.
Sometimes weāre unsatisfied with a thing we made because when it only existed in our head, we saw all the things it could have been and when itās done we know all the things that it isnāt, but we canāt see the way it expands into a million new things when someone else unpacks it in their head.
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