Anon has the best mom
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

JVL
Claire Keane
will byers stan first human second
cherry valley forever
Cosimo Galluzzi
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
noise dept.

Kiana Khansmith
occasionally subtle
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@mockymyths
Anon has the best mom
I’M FUCKING WHEEZING how am i supposed to live my life after reading this post knowing these people are out there somewhere
also WHY does every american lit or american history or w/ever course contain the entire history and writings of england & greater europe up until the colonies but NO documentation of the oral histories and stories from actual native american tribes and look at how that influenced and was influenced by european traditions to create the “american” story. like i KNOW why but christ
the first ever anthology of native american poetry was published this week and barnes and noble has a 1998 anthology of native american plays and those are literally the only two anthologies of native american literature i could find and i am PHYSICALLY INSISTING that u buy them and support the native activists and authors who pushed for them to published because holy shit y’all
ok this has been bothering me for a while now bc that^ rb is blatantly not true (that they’re the first or in any way only documented indigenous works, not that you should buy them because that part’s right), and while this has been corrected heartily in the notes there’s no one central reblog chain, which makes it really hard to reblog the best version since you’re always going to be missing something. so i compiled them all.
every name and title mentioned in the notes up until (american) thanksgiving 2020 is under the cut. it’s very long. it’s also very messy; in alphabetical order, but with no distinctions between genre or media type, so sorry about that. it should all be by pan-american indigenous creators, but it’s possible a white or otherwise non indigenous person slipped through. in the same vein, some of the information may be inaccurate and i bet several of these are out of print or hard to find. again, sorry, but it’s a really long list to vet and link each entry individually.
anyway. here we go!
You know what line gets me every time I watch MAD MAX FURY ROAD?
“Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence.”
Think about that. “Addicted to water.” It makes it sound like water is an extra luxury that people don’t need but are greedy for, something they should be able to go without, and if they are desperate for it, it’s their own fault, and not the fault of the man who has all of it, and withholds it.
Think about how the people in power tell us not to be greedy for the things we need, like healthcare, like a living wage, like the right to be free of fear and violence in our own communities. The people in power tell us not to be greedy for these things, when they themselves already enjoy them freely, and withhold them from us.
Don’t trust the narrative that tells us we’re being greedy by asking for things that we need.
Don’t trust the asshole sitting on a grassy hilltop with his hand on the spigot telling us not to be greedy for water.
Holy shit it’s literally trickle down economics.
Mad Max: Fury Road has no chill. The villain’s army are all dudes who paint their skin white, drinking water is rebranded as “Aqua Cola” and seen as a luxury, and the turning point of the movie is when Max teams up with like twelve gun-toting grannies in order to destroy the patriarchy.
Pippin: I’m not worried anything’ll happen to my father while I’m gone, because I already know how he’s going to die.
Boromir: you do?
Pippin: yes.
Pippin: stung to death by bees.
Boromir: …..excuse me?
Pippin: he gets chased by bees so often, it stands to reason that one day they’ll catch him
Boromir: how many times has he been chased by bees??
Pippin: three
Pippin: which I realise isn’t that many, but it’s a lot more times than most people have been chased by bees
Pippin: for example, I’ve been chased by bees once, which is a more normal amount of times to be chased by bees
Pippin: and Merry has been chased by bees no times, which is the correct amount of times to be chased by bees
Merry: I’m too smart to get on the wrong side of bees :)
Pippin: yes, and I’ve learned not to anger them through experience
Merry: unlike his father, who never seems to learn.
Pippin: that or the bees hate him
Boromir: fascinating
Legolas: I have been chased by bees 18 times.
Pippin: ……..wow
Merry: amazing
Pippin: outstanding
Merry: you could give Pippin’s dad a run for his money
Pippin: don’t you mean, a run for his honey :)
Merry: …this is why the bees don’t like you.
*much later*
Pippin: Legolas, this is my sister Pimpernel. Pim, this is Legolas. He’s an elf and the only person I’ve ever met who’s been chased by bees more times than father.
Pimpernel: my goodness
Pimpernel: how many times have you been chased by bees??
Legolas: 19.
Pippin: oh, it happened again huh?
Legolas: I like honey
Building a treehouse is the biggest insult to a tree. “I killed your friend, here hold him.”
“Friend”
Its more of I killed a potential enemy. Hold his dismembered corpse in victory.
Plants don’t wage war
Ever heard of blackberries?
Yes, plants do wage war
Mint and strawberries, too. They need to be quarantined or they will kill basically everything else.
I planted mint in the ground 2 years ago.
It’s currently fighting a bitter battle to the death against the raspberries attempting to invade from the east while trying to annex the patio.
Could go either way at this point TBH. Unless, of course, I take a shovel and the blowtorch out there and battle both back to within their original boundaries.
And anyone wondering if a blowtorch is overkill for weeding back mint has never actually planted mint.
This post did not go where I expected it to.
Our garden plot at my childhood home slowly got overrun by wild blackberries after we stopped managing it while my sister and I were in nursing school. And by overrun I mean it was like a 4 foot tall thicket of wild blackberries. It hadn’t been touched by humans in at least 4 years. I started the ultimately futile task of trying to clear this plot with a machete and discovered to my amazement a patch of mint several feet across underneath the canopy of blackberry, still fighting the good fight all those years later.
Ultimately it took two jars of homemade napalm and some creative fire placement to clear that patch but I damn sure saved that patch of mint. It earned the right to be there.
Yall mother fuckers don’t even talk unless you’ve had to wage war on kudzu (it’s an ivy strain directly from Hell) that shit doesn’t just wage war with other plants, it wages war with all living things on planet earth. It’s some gnarly ass Blood for the Blood God, Chlorophyll for the Chlorophyll Throne demon weed.
Can second the comments of Kudzu.
I forget where I read it but there’s this one tree that creates an extremely flammable substance that’s in both the bark and leaves. Dead trees become torches and crushed up leaves become dust-incendiary, all while the plant’s seeds are Giant Redwood levels of resilient to open flame. IE it has a goddamn scorched earth policy. It’s even more badass than plants that use toxins to starve other plants.
I’d like to third the comments on Kudzu. These are the battlefields:
See those weird pillars? Those were trees. See that strange lump in the middle? That was a house. Everything green you see in this photo is kudzu.
Kudzu is an apocalyptic nightmare
They smother every other living plant to death
Those trees under there are dead, they can’t get sunlight. Kudzu takes over and steals everything from these trees, and becomes them. It’s creepy as hell. These plants are basically straight out of a horror novelist’s wet dream tbh.
The bodies of everything the kudzu has slain.
What used to be a house
Someone attempting to drive a four wheeler through it, to give you scale
It’s an ornamental plant kept in check in china, but was introduced to north america where it immediately went rampant and began to spread incredibly fast like a disease, destroying everything in its wake
The ONLY thing that has stopped this curse from engulfing the united states is goats. Apparently goats love this stuff like no tomorrow. Everywhere we find it now, we just bring a horde of goats to cut it down. Everything is fine…. for now.
Kudzu is on time magazine’s top 10 invasive species to look out for.
This little buddy doing his part
Not to keep spamming this post but
“the growth of kudzu as it became a “structural parasite” of the South,[7] enveloping entire structures when untreated[11] and often referred to as “the vine that ate the South”.[13]”
“It has been spreading rapidly in the southern U.S., “easily outpacing the use of herbicide spraying and mowing, as well increasing the costs of these controls by $6 million annually”.[2]“
yall it’s been estimated this plant consumes 600 kilometers of the united states every year
it’s been suggested that we just start eating it to make it go away
Adding to the spam: yes, kudzu IS edible. In fact, all parts of it but the vine are edible. The leaves are supposedly great in salads or baked into quiche. The flowers supposedly are great in jam. The roots… Well, if you know how to cook other root vegetables, you know what to do with kudzu root. Feed this stuff to your livestock and cook it.
Eat it before it eats your house.
@solarpunkcast @solarpunkactionweek @solarpunkinspo @enviropunk feels relevant
In this world it’s eat or be eaten
Thread starts with the existential angst of building a treehouse. Ends with recipes on how to eat kudzu.
Posts that make you go ‘hm.’
it’s sometimes hard to believe rasputin was real. like there’s no non-fucked up part of rasputin’s existence
did he do something problematic i thought he was just russia’s greatest love machine
basic (true) story: fanatical russian monk who has almost never shaved or washed and smells like goats shows up at the russian capital with a creepy look on his beardy face and everyone just assumes he’s a prophet or a saint because he’s got a cult following that believes he can cure illnesses. his stans are sexually obsessed with him and he gets just a fuckton of russian pussy wherever he goes cause apparently he can cure his true believers of illness with god-given dick magic. russia’s queen has him come stay at the palace and sets him up in luxury because she thinks he can cure her son’s haemophilia with the power of russian goat jesus, and they (allegedly) become lovers, probably, ‘cause she craves that unwashed goat-scented dick like the rest of his cult which she now (allegedly) belongs to.
then the worst assassins in the history of assassinations try to assassinate him, because all of russia is slutshaming the queen he has too much power over the royal family and it’s helping revolutionaries turn people against the royals. so these idiots have him round for tea and cakes which are poisoned with cyanide, but he is magically unaffected by poison they get the dose wrong and he doesn’t die, and then he drinks three glasses of wine, which are also poisoned, and he doesn’t die, so they tell him to look at a crucifix and shoot him in the chest with a revolver when he isn’t looking, and he doesn’t die, but they think he’s dead so one of them dresses in his clothes and gets driven to his apartment to make it look like he’s gone home to hide the crime, and when they come back he gets up and attacks them, so they stab him in the side with a knife, and he doesn’t die, and then he frees himself and runs outside, so they shoot him a few times more, including in the forehead, and they wrap his body up and chuck him in the icy river, and he doesn’t go into the water, so his body is found on the ice the next day. and get this…. he died…. of hypothermia.
additionally, everyone who wasnt in the party of getting rid of rasputin was pretty bummed out when they found him and his miracle dick dead the next day and there was a pretty bangin funeral of which the royal family themselves attended. however after the tsar was overthrown a few month later they exhumed his body and burned it because the new leadership was very adamant about making sure there were no ties left to honor the old monarchy. however this dudes body had never been properly prepped for a cremation which meant that under the extreme heat his tendons and ligaments began to retract and shrink causing his dead body to move and twitch around as if still animate. according to some testimony his body actually sat up straight on the pyre, and at least one spectator fired a gun at the body and another may have allegedly died of shock.
op was right. there’s no non-fucked up part of this dude’s existence. even his second funeral was fucked
she dicked cockily down stairs
https://www.paypal.me/emilypyro
i actually got two donations and the “keep it up” one was bigger so anyway she penised phalluciously
this really hit me and I thought it was worth sharing
A lot of people think this way because we grow up inherently believing that we should always be punished for simply existing and having a hard time with it. It’s not “I deserve to work in a clean space” it’s “I’m such a lazy fuck and I need to punish myself with mundane chores”. So re-framing your mindset to be more grace-filled helps you learn how to be kind to yourself and allows you to then spread that kindness in other ways.
This is basically a go-to for dealing with anxiety or any similar disorder. It’s a process and it’s hard at start. but when you repeat it enough, you’ll definitely reprogram your subconscious.
‘‘Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead ‘
[image id: a screenshot of a tweet. the user’s twitter handle is “dosasndiamonds”, and their screen name is “enigmatic sis” followed by a sparkle emoji. the tweet reads: “instead of “oh fuck i gotta clean”, I think “i deserve to work and live in a clean space”. Instead of “ugh i gotta workour”, I tell myself I deserve to live a healthy life with the people I love”. so many things we can accomplish by reframing our mindset.” end id]
This is how I get myself motivated to clean my room every week. I tend to do it on a Thursday night, therefore ensuring that when I come back from work on Friday, everything is clean and cleared and ready for the weekend, because that’s what I deserve for myself.
This is why I make my bed every morning. I DESERVE to crawl into a nice, neat bed after a long day! It’s such a small thing to start with but it made a huge difference.
Working on writing shouldn’t be “Oh my god I haven’t written anything in so long, I HAVE to write XXX words today!” but instead, maybe “I really like this activity and story and I should have some fun and write as much as I want to”
Ruthless Rhymes for Martial Militants. These conservative cartoons from ~1913 depicting angry suffragettes as brutal anarchafeminists were somehow actually supposed to make the subjects look bad, instead of amazingly badass.
MARGARET ATWOOD
‘November’, You Are Happy (1974);
original photos and edit
I still think that my favorite urban legend/folklore fact is that there are certain areas in New Orleans where you cannot get a taxi late at night not because it isn’t safe, but because taxi companies have had recurring problems of picking up ghosts in those areas who are not aware that they are dead and disappearing from the cab before reaching the destination and therefore stiffing the driver on the fare causing a loss for the company.
An occupational hazard of cab driving I had not previously considered
I love that the nola problem here is not “ghosts in my taxi cab,” but “ghosts are FUCKING BROKE DEAD BASTARDS & I GOT BILLS”
Horror is when ghosts get into cabs and scare drivers Magical realism is when cab companies have to develop policies to prevent ghastly fare-theft
In a book about the tsunami in Japan in 2011, the writer talked about how there was a huge increase in reports of ghostly activity. Apparently in Japan treating ghosts rudely is basically considered the stupidest thing you could possibly do. For months after the tsunami, taxi drivers would pick up a passenger only to have them give an address in one of the devastated areas. The cab driver often looked up halfway to the destination to find their fare had disappeared. Not wanting to be impolite to the person (even if they were dead) they’d drive to the address, open the door to let them out, then drive away.
Yeah this all checks out
Oh no my Apple Pencil died what ever shall I do as an artiiiist
*opens google docs for I am also a writer*
You get it
its my gender and i get to pick the appropriate times to misgender myself for comedic purposes
i beg you all please stop hiding these in the tags
Gouyen (c.1857-1903): Wise Woman of the Apache
Footnotes and citations available in the footnotes on the main site: click here.
Thanks to the Mescalero Apache Tribe for looking over the entry and okaying it for online publication.
If you’re interested in the book, I put up a ton of details about it here, and you can preorder online here.
Next entry, something less grim and gritty. More details behind the cut.
Keep reading
Thought I’d add some reference pictures used in the creation of this entry (this is the only reblog I’ll do for the full thing). First, we have Gouyen in later life, after she remarried and had a family:
Next, what I based her ceremonial outfit on:
And her regular wear:
Chief Quanah Parker, visual reference for the Comanche chief:
The Comanche knife:
And the dancers:
Sometimes when you are in a relationship you may look at your partner (perhaps they are sleeping, or doing something particularly sweet and vulnerable) and you ask yourself “what would I do if anyone hurt them?” - and your heart just roars in response. The answer can be worrying or surprising or frightening.
And here you know that if your heart answered chirpily, “If anyone hurt my partner, I would honestly kill them with my bare fucking teeth,” then there is a woman in history who shared this thought with you.
And she did it. She straight-up killed someone with her bare fucking teeth. She went into that place, the place people are a little afraid of.
Maybe you don’t share much with other Disney princesses or heroes, but if you’ve ever had that thought, you share it with her.
This was a truly splendid reading experience, thank you.
My life has been so much better ever since I traded my impostor syndrome to brilliant conman -syndrome. Do I deserve anything in life? Fuck no! Will I grasp it anyway? Fuck yes!
My art has never been worth shit, but watch me bullshit my way into art school! I am a horrid goblin, but watch me make these people like me! Am I qualified to do this task? Well I sure have the certificates that say that I am! And how did I get those? Who knows! Not me! I am so good at cheating, I don’t have to break a single rule to do it!
I am brilliant, fast, and absolutely drunk with power!
Finally a concise, accurate description of what I’ve been doing the past ten years
on soulmates
f. scott fitzgerald / friedrich nietzsche / florence and the machine / andrea dworkin / kiersten white / euripides / audre lorde / phillip pullmann / bob hicok