I haven't been on tumblr in years.
What happened to the tumblr logo, and why is it pink

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Origami Around

Kiana Khansmith

Love Begins
we're not kids anymore.

izzy's playlists!
art blog(derogatory)
RMH
trying on a metaphor
Not today Justin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
AnasAbdin

JBB: An Artblog!
Keni
Jules of Nature
Sade Olutola
DEAR READER

ellievsbear

roma★

#extradirty
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@lynffles
I haven't been on tumblr in years.
What happened to the tumblr logo, and why is it pink
Chinese Dragon & Terrace by Xision Wu
Damn this is well done
based on a true story
I don’t think Fortnite is to blame for kids nowadays not reading…
That’s the joke. It’s the authoritarian overbearing parent.
He was being sarcastic lol
Reminded me of these
That violin one hit close to home.
I remember doing homework once, asked my grandmother if she was proud of me. “Do some thing for me to be proud of.” That hurt.
That comic up there – I witnessed almost that exact scenario. Teacher wanted the kids to all pick books. One kid spots something on the shelf and gets visibly excited. Pulls it out and starts reading. Teacher sees it, snatches it off him and tells him that this is a book for 8 year olds (the kid was 15ish) and tells him to get a book more appropriate for his age. Kid slouches around the shelves for about 10 minutes, finally picks up a book at random and sits in his chair tucking the edges of each page into the binding to make that looped-page look. He didn’t read a word. He sat there and did this to his book for the remainder of the reading session:
He had been genuinely excited about the 8 year old book he’d picked up. It was a new one in a series he used to read as a younger kid. He’d been actively sitting and reading, and then he was embarrassed in front of his classmates, told off for reading a kids book, and voila. He lost all enthusiasm for reading anything else that day.
What’s worse? That kid had been hit by a car like a year and a half earlier. Severe brain trauma. Had to re-learn a lot of basic things, like how to speak and how to read.
An 8 year old book would have been perfect for him. Easy enough to read that it would have helped rebuild his confidence in his own reading ability. A book meant for 15/16 years olds? A lot harder to read than a book for 8 year olds. Especially if you’re recovering from a relatively recent brain injury.
And yeah, the teacher knew all about his brain injury, and the recovery. He just seemed go be of the opinion that the kid was 15, so he should be reading books for 15 year olds, irrespective of brain injury.
Reading this thread I’m reminded of Daniel Pennae’s The Rights of the Reader, which can be found in a lot of bookshops and school libraries:
The child speaking at the bottom in Quentin Blake’s distinctive spiky handwriting is saying ‘10 rights, 1 warning: Don’t make fun of people who don’t read - or they never will’
OKAY LISTEN
This thread is fucking depressing so I wanted to add an example of what can happen when the RIGHT approach is taken.
My best friend is a school librarian. But for a few years, she taught 7th and 8th grade. This was right around 2010.
She assigned a book report. You could do any book you wanted, but she had to approve your choice.
Some girl chose Twilight.
Alicia called me and said “I don’t know what to do. Her other teachers said it was a miracle she picked a book at all. She won’t even read two paragraphs for homework. But…it’s TWILIGHT.” Which, yes, Alicia had read, because it was popular with her students and she felt like she had to keep abreast of their likes and dislikes to be effective. (For those who weren’t around for this, or don’t remember: a lot of schools and teachers were banning Twilight more or less on the basis of finding it trashy.)
I said: “tell her yes. But tell her that if she wants to read Twilight, there are some questions you want her to keep in mind while she reads.” And advised her to tailor those questions around things that bothered her about the books (for example, Edward’s stalking of Bella).
She did.
A few weeks later she called me again.
The girl decided to read the whole series, got halfway through Breaking Dawn, took her the book, and said “Mrs. [name], I just don’t LIKE any of these people.” Normally, Alicia would’ve recommended Harry Potter, but again: these were the only books the girl had been known to pick up in YEARS, and the final Potter book was just barely three years old. If she’d wanted to read it, she already would have. Alicia’s preferred genre is one I call Tudor-lite (Jane Austen, Philippa Gregory, that stuff), and she was pretty sure the stuff she was really into wouldn’t pass muster with her student.
I was still living in the same area as Alicia at the time, so I told her to ask the girl what she HAD liked about Twilight, give me the answers, and my creepy-loving ass would make a recommendation and give her a book. Based on her answers, I gave her my copy of ‘Salem’s Lot and told her to tell the girl she could keep it as long as she liked.
I NEVER GOT IT BACK.
This girl went from ‘Salem’s Lot to Dracula. And from Dracula to Frankenstein. And from Frankenstein into the wider world of gothic literature. By the end of the school year she’d plowed through almost fifty books—which meant ALMOST THREE PER WEEK.
All it took was being told “sure, you can like Twilight” and then “it’s okay, you don’t have to like Twilight.”
A little sun, a little rain, a little love—that’s all it takes to make a flower grow.
(And sometimes, a copy of a book you will have to accept it was time to lose, because it will bear more fruit in different soil.)
i wasn't supposed to write about roses or blood or silver, about hearts or wings or galaxies; my teacher used to press her hands, firmly, to the top of our poetry stacks and beg us - love different. she was bored of it. i'd go home and write something with each of her off-limits words, emboldened by spite.
for a stint of time, i was a reader for a poetry magazine, shifting through thousands of submitted writings, each hopefully printed onto my tiny laptop screen for next-submission-viewing. one editor had a pile where we would put all the poems with parsnips or cauliflower, one pile for long-thin emergency rants that devolved into a blank scream, one pile for mentions of belladonna and chartreuse - for a whole year, i'd go to bed hearing chartreuse and silver and cities playing in my head in calligraphy. every three months, the beautiful public eye would become just-fascinated by pretty things. unusual, beautiful monstrosities. one winter, all about daises. the next, a fascination with posies. i watched the world spin from catching love in language to the same five phrases - help, it's ending, i'm alone, help, it's dark here, come home, help -
later, as an english teacher, i saw patterns. every semester, one million essays about four specific things. it wasn't pretty enough to be a teachable moment: the content they wanted to discuss was all extremely violent; a broken anthem of climate change and constantly being videoed is destroying us. i would wake up shaking, worried their visions were prophetic, soon-to-be-true. selfish, i couldn't handle the constant semester-to-semester panic they scribbled into six paragraphs, MLA-formatted text. read the world is ending fifty times every month; sob to your therapist i'm not doing enough, tell your students: please, no more violence, i don't have the right stomach.
each one seemed the same poem: we're dying, and nobody is coming to save us.
there are very few celebration poems these days. i want to rest my hand on a stack of poems about love in big red wings. love in a jacket, standing under an open galaxy. love written on the bicep, in an anatomically correct heart, with an arrow shot through the center so you can see the pink viscera of surviving a wound - so you know that even permanent tattoos are permeable. blood on the snout of a newborn lamb. silver rings around the pink scales of a pigeon's leg, and love with her hand around the ribs of a bird. i want to read boring essays about lunch. about which video games run the best graphics. about carnivals. about love in big cliche terms: standing in a garden of parsnips, clutching daises to her chest, eating raw meat over the body of a rich man.
i want to open the poetry magazine and have pages of sonnets about bluebells. about survival. about a mundane, beautiful spring. about sitting with your dog on a front porch, writing without spite, happily toying with the idea of ice cream.
my student sends me an email. i know you said to write about what brings you joy. but nothing really makes me happy these days. i don't know what i'm doing.
The power of organized labor is not ultimately rooted in the state, but rather in the ability to halt production and wreak havoc even when the state is aligned against it.
People say a lot of things about the economies of the Nordic countries and why they are so much more equal than ours. In this discussion, certainly the presence of unions and sector bargaining comes up, but rarely do you get a discussion of just how radically powerful and organized the Nordic unions are and have been. If you didn’t know better, you’d think the Nordic labor market is the way it is because all of the employers and workers came together and agreed that their system is better for everyone. And while it’s true of course that, on a day-to-day basis, labor relations in the countries are peaceful, lurking behind that peace is often a credible threat that the unions will crush an employer that steps out of line, not just by striking at one site or at one company, but by striking every single thing that the company touches.
We saw this most recently in 2019 Finland when the state-owned postal service decided to cut the pay of 700 package handlers by moving them to a different sector agreement than the one they were currently being paid under. The unions responded by striking airlines, ferries, buses, trains, and ports. In the aftermath of these strikes, the pay cuts were reversed and the prime minister of the country resigned.
When I bring this up, people sometimes respond by saying that these kinds of strikes are illegal in the US. This is a true and worthwhile bit of information, but insofar as it is meant to imply that the different legal environment is what accounts for the labor radicalism, this obviously has things backwards. The laws aren’t driving the labor radicalism, but rather the labor radicalism is driving the laws.
McDonalds doesn’t pay Danes high wages because of a statutory wage floor or even because the state stepped in to enforce a collective bargaining agreement. They pay high wages because back in the 1980s, Danish unions flipped a switch and turned the whole business off, and McDonalds doesn’t want to find out whether they would do it again.
©东予薏米 jade rabbits making mooncakes for mid-autumn festival
Husky getting nervous at his first swimming lesson
I like this WAY more then I should
BIG BABY <3
“Death to Poseidon” has me fking rolling.
post from a friend who works on film/tv sets about the IATSE strike, feel free to repost
Meet my new OC families~
What’s so awful and hope-eroding about the pandemic at this point is how consistently the value of life is cheapened before our eyes. The number of deaths go up. We are appalled and scared. The number of deaths go down, we talk about the economy. Hospital wards are full to bursting. The number of deaths go up. That number isn’t as scary as it was. We can get through that. The number goes down. It’s not zero. It’s hundreds and thousands, but it’s less than before and there are profits to be made. The number goes up. We’ve seen worse. The numbers go by. We don’t blink an eye anymore. They’re just numbers. The profits go up and the deaths go up and it’s business as usual. People are dying. People are always dying. It doesn’t make your stomach drop anymore. The number goes down. The economy goes down. Add another covid booster shot, make the numbers go the right way. My neighbor gets evicted because he can’t work anymore due to Covid side effects. Make him a number. People live out of their cars. But they didn’t die, don’t count them. Restaurants are open. Shops are open. People are dying. It’s not scary anymore. 526 Covid deaths yesterday. That’s not so bad. This is normal. It’s all numbers. 4.5 million dead around the world. How many is that? Is that a lot? I don’t know anymore. I feel sick.
There's also the corrupt officials and private sector cronies in my shitty government who used the emergency situation to steal millions upon millions of dollars of taxpayer money, and then you get to thinking about how many people we could have saved, how many families supported throughout our ridiculous lockdowns, how many businesses and jobs kept afloat, how we could have had a better response to the pandemic, if only they had less of their greed and more of the compassion and integrity we expect out of elected officials and actually put that money to use serving their sworn duty to the people--
Happy hallowee
“18,000 miles of undersea pipelines have been abandoned in the Gulf—97% of all decommissioned pipelines there—with no remediation or monitoring.”
Read more: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/09/04/climate/oil-spill-hurricane-ida.html
... I don't understand, when you decommission something don't you ensure it won't work anymore and that there's nothing of value left behind? Why leave behind shit that would fuck up the surroundings if the containers ever broke??
Utility for downloading fanfiction in bulk from the Archive of Our Own - GitHub - nianeyna/ao3downloader: Utility for downloading fanfiction
Well folks I've been sitting on this little script for ages and finally decided to just go ahead and publish it. What does it do?
you can enter any ao3 link - for example, to your bookmarks or an author's works page - and automatically download all the works and series that are linked from that page in the format of your choice
if your format of choice is epub (sorry, this part doesn't work for other file formats), you can check your fanfic-savin' folder for unfinished fics and automatically update them if there are new chapters
if you're a dinosaur who uses Pinboard, you can back up all the Pinboard bookmarks you have that link to ao3
don't worry about crashing ao3 with this! this baby takes forever to run, guaranteed. anyway ao3 won't let me make more than one request per second even if I wanted to so it's quite safe
I've been working on this for about two years and it's finally in a state where it does everything I want and isn't breaking every two seconds, so I thought it was time to share! I hope y'all get some use out of it.
note: this is a standalone desktop app that DOES NOT DO ANYTHING aside from automate clicking on buttons on the ao3 website. Everything this script does, can be done by hand using ao3's regular features. It is just a utility to facilitate personal backups for offline reading - there's no website or server, I have no access to or indeed interest in the fics other people download using this. No plagiarism is happening here, please don't come after me.
As a note: Scraping of texts is perfectly fine according to the AO3 TOS.
Do you have a policy on bots or scraping? These are ways of extracting information from or indexing websites.
Using bots or scraping is not against our Terms of Service unless it relates to our guidelines against spam or other activities. However, we do reserve the right to implement robots.txt or other protocols limiting what bots can do, or to notify you and ask you to discontinue if a bot or scraping program is causing problems for the site.
source: https://archiveofourown.org/tos_faq#spam_faq
They do ask unofficially that you limit how quickly/frequently you hit their servers to prevent outages to other users which I don’t think is an issue here since the creator directly addresses it! But if you look for any other scraping scripts out there pay attention to this part.
oh yeah, thanks for calling this out! yes I checked up on this early on in development to make sure I was on the up and up and, as you say, couldn't find any rules against what I'm doing here. To the very best of my knowledge, this is all completely legit. In terms of load on the site, a sufficiently dedicated and focused human could probably keep up with this script if they really wanted to. As I alluded to in my note, the purpose of this script is really not to achieve anything you couldn't do by hand - all it does is automate the process so you can go do something else while it happens.
I can't decide if I should be--
Awestruck at how fricking cool this panel is
Scared shitless imagining how terrifying this must look like to the clueless hunters gathered below that gigantic gate or
Laughing hysterically at all those dragon heads poking out looking like owo? 0w0??
Is this not normal
..uhhhh....I do that, too.
Either I'm just speed reading or this is an ADHD thing