Stop this “work hard” bullshit. You deserve free time, you deserve sleep and you deserve mental health. You deserve to procrastinate and you deserve to have your hobbies. You deserve it. You need it. No one should work & study all the time.

ellievsbear
Fai_Ryy
cherry valley forever
No title available

izzy's playlists!
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
$LAYYYTER
macklin celebrini has autism
EXPECTATIONS

Origami Around
Noah Kahan
No title available
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr

Product Placement
todays bird
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
No title available

bliss lane
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Maldives
seen from Philippines

seen from TĂĽrkiye

seen from China
seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Italy
seen from South Africa

seen from Netherlands
seen from Ireland

seen from Australia

seen from South Korea

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Australia

seen from United States
@mammothsun
Stop this “work hard” bullshit. You deserve free time, you deserve sleep and you deserve mental health. You deserve to procrastinate and you deserve to have your hobbies. You deserve it. You need it. No one should work & study all the time.
Love in unexpected places: a useless analysis of Good Omens, Ineffable Husbands, and Terry Pratchett’s not-quite romance subplots
So, you discovered Good Omens, and perhaps you even loved it (much like I do). If you are anything like me (or, let’s face it, pretty much any fan of either the book or series, if the posters and cover designs are anything to go by) the culprits behind your newest obsession are Aziraphale and Crowley, a celestial odd-couple, angel and demon, forever secluded both from the rest of heaven and hell due to their earthly duties, and from the entirety of the human race due to their immortality.
It doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to look at the description above and discern, somewhere between the lines, the very definition of the word soulmates. And, now that both one of the authors (Neil Gaiman) and the actors involved with the adaptation openly discuss the way GO is structured like a love story (no matter the type of love), I wanted to use this beautiful pair (that somehow manages to embody both the star crossed lovers and the old bickering couple trope perfectly) as a starting point, an opportunity if you like, to gush over my favorite author, Sir Terry Pratchett, and the way his over-the-top, satirical fantasy books are peppered throughout with tinges of unexpected romance.
Seeing the word romance coexist within the same period as STP’s name feels weird. Sir Terry never wrote romance, it was never the focus of his narratives, and while his characters were beautiful, multi-dimentional beings up against truly human predicaments, those fictional people usually found their happy endings through self-discovery, alone and hardly ever paired up with significant others. What many of his readers fail to realize, however, is that STP actually preferred to subtextually hint at those delicious sparks of spontenous romance that fly bewteen unlikely people, under unlikely circumstances.
Which brings me to Good Omens once more. I remember reading somewhere that the authors didn’t, in fact, intend the book to be a love story. (the series, written exclusively by Gaiman, an author who doesn’t shy away from full-blown romance, is another story altogether; the series is eye-rollingly romantic in the best way, and this is the hill I am dying on, possibly defending Michael Sheen with my flaming pen, seeing as I don’t have, nor know how to use, a sword).
And of course they didn’t, because, after all, Good Omens is a book about the apocalypse, and about the end of childhood, and about faith. Incidentally, however, it is also a book that comes conspicuously close to being That Book About A Demon Named Crowley, because, if you squint, it gets really clear whose voice the writers channel a lot of what they intend to say through.
Which brings me to this: Good Omens as a Book About A Demon Named Crowley is, at its heart, a story about not belonging, about loneliness and self-acceptance. Crowley didn’t mean to Fall (nor, no matter how eye-wateringly well David Tennant shakes those hips in the show, saunter vaguely downwards.) He just asked questions, refusing to conform to whatever God’s plan was, because he has a dangerous penchant for actual, critical thinking.
Likewise, he is a disaster demon because his truly evil proclivities amount to, ugh, zero. As such, we can easily see Aziraphale for what he truly is to Crowley- not only his best friend, but his only friend as well, the only individual capable of making or breaking Crowley’s happy ending. Case in point: Crowley, in the book, is a pretty skittish person up to the point when he thinks Aziraphale is dead. Unlike the show, we don’t see him mourn, or declare something dangerously close to an admittance of feelings; what we do see is something far more potent, subtextually at least: we see him lash out and fight like he has nothing left to lose. (Hint: with Zira gone, he doesn’t).
And Zira? Zira is a self-righteous bastard, probably unaware of how much he means to Crowley. Neil and Terry didn’t write him, originally, to be a cinnamon roll, which comprises yet another caveat to any romantic readings of the book. And yet, subtextually again, this is far more potent. Let me explain why:
Zira chooses to fraternise with Crowley. There is nothing in it for him. Unlike Book Crowley, he is not the odd one out. The arrangement isn’t an escape for him, like it is to the demon who gets to perform the occasional miracle for the side of good. And most importantly: Zira hasn’t Fallen. Not yet at least. Thus, when he reaches out and takes Crowley’s hand during the climax of the Armageddon’t (yeah, this shit actually happens in the book, and it did more to my feelings than a thousand Romeos and Juliets killing themselves for lo- for lu- for whatever that fuckery was) he is, of his own free will, risking the much-dreaded Fall.
One may argue that, hey, he wasn’t really thinking straight (pun intended, duh) because it was more likely than not that they would not get to see another day. This, too, does not hold up, not when Zira, still the one with things to lose out of the two, chooses to spend The First Day of The Rest of His Life with a demon, of all supernatural entities. The cherry on the literary sundae? Their joint arc ends with dinner at the Ritz, while a nightingale sings, because this is one of those books where everyone gets a happy ending, and apparently, they are each other’s happy ending.
So yeah, of course Neil cannot do more than he already has with the Zira/Crowley dynamic,and nor can he say more, because this book, the source material behind the series, was co-written with his dead best friend, who can no longer offer his own insights. As such, to tread into a more explicitly homoromantic (homoerotic?) territory would be to betray Sir Terry, who is no longer here to give his thumbs up or thumbs down to all of this. The same Sir Terry who didn’t do romance, not, as I said, explicitly.
And yet, look at what he helped give us. As a reader, I am fascinated by the story between the lines as much as the one printed on paper, and for me, the writers who can perform this kind of magic, effectively putting equal gravitas on the word that is and the word that isn’t, they are just one step below God. So yeah, we cannot call Book! Ineffable Husbands a romance. But you know what?
We can very much consider them a prime example of how Sir Terry wrote what I call Love in Unexpected Places. Because this is what this is. He used this motif a lot, and in many different ways, in his stories. To anyone who is interested in discovering Discworld, I will give another wonderful example, and a thinly disguised go-read-it-now recommendation: Reaper Man.
You see, of course Reaper Man, a hilarious story about Death, Life, beauraucracy, and the withdrawal of important public services (such as the reaping of souls), with its many characters and subplots has absolutely nothing to do with anything resembling a love story. And yet it’s right there, one of the most affectionate relationships STP has ever conjured up, wholly platonic but childishly tender. I won’t spoil it for you. Seek it. Discover it. Find out for yourself what I am talking about and what holding hands or spectacularly failing at buying flowers can do to your feelings. See if you can come up with a more unlikely interaction. Learn nuance from the very best, or at least try to while bawling your eyes out.
Εdit: Did Neil just-
-like my brain vomit?
we live in the best possible version of cyberpunk
this is how people born after 1995 hack. when i started hacking or “phreaking” in the late 80s i would get in the zone by snorting homemade amphetamines & listening to harsh noise cassettes while banging out code for 24+ hour periods on my atari. mostly i would write text-to-speech features into the operating system so the computer said swear words when you double-click. i remember when html was invented i got so frustrated because theres so many greater than and less than signs and you have to put them around everything. in early january of 2001 i changed Google’s header to a gif of a pissing orangutan and the resulting publicity turned the website into a household nameÂ
never have a been more devastated to scroll over a url and see its deactivated who are you ma'am
Name a more iconic duo
life is back pain
i once heard a scientist in a documentary about evolution refer to the human spine as an “architectural nightmare” and then procede to explain why every back is a bad back. it was so validating.
I adjusted my bra straps wrong one day and I’ve been in a ridiculous amount of pain for the past week.
this is silly because if you look closely you can see that the tiger is not an actual tiger but a Beanie Baby, a popular childs toy.
is that true?
i promise
Game of Thrones Spinoff Shows | SNL | 4.06.19
This is the money furby, reblog for good luck in wealth and in health
I’ve been scamming the Dominos app promotion where you take a picture of any pizza for free points. For three weeks in row, not only has their shitty camera always interpreted any photo of my cat as pizza, I always tell them it was “the worst I’ve ever had” and “made at home”.
Excuse me @crooked-fingers may i see a picture of your cat plz? This sounds genuinely awesome.
And I just love cats
Here he is, the Pizza Boy
And so it continues
Mmmm, another week, another delicious pizza.
That’s all, folks. Six cat pictures within six weeks, and for a total of 60 Dominos points, redeemable for a medium 2-topping pizza of my choosing. I will be getting pepperoni and chicken, mine and Charlie’s respective favorites. He will be given many tiny pieces of chicken for being a perfect little model pizza boy, and also for aiding me in tricking a multimillion dollar company into giving me free food. Thanks for giving him the love and attention you all have given this post! He’s gonna try to stay humble.
I’m color-blind, but I can pick out that [Yves Klein] blue anywhere. I wrote 30,000 words on this color, and I never grew tired of it. The pigment is staggering. It’s amazing that a color can be so emotional. One can only hope to achieve that intensity in acting.
all hail eddie redmayne, patron saint of academic bullshittery
You have been visited by the Eddie Redmayne of bullshit, reblog to have plenty of bullshit to spew on your final exams
This is the level of academic fuckery I strive to achieve
“That’s it! I’m getting a hundred cups of coffee, starting now.”