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oozey mess
tumblr dot com
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
Love Begins
No title available
Product Placement
titsay
The Bowery Presents
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Noah Kahan
One Nice Bug Per Day
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Fai_Ryy
Phantogram Three
Origami Around
noise dept.
Today's Document
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@momoleighann
that whole scene where howl is telling Sophie that she's beautiful in the meadow is fucking hilarious when you compare that against book!howl and the consistent comments about what a horrid and nosy woman she is
@carrotsofthepirabbean !!!!
AND the book scene where she’s like “what the fuck you could TELL that I was cursed?? Why didn’t you do anything about it?” and he’s like “idk I thought you just liked being an old lady, that’s your business”
hey guys. this is my invention. check it out
listen no matter how depressed I am whenever this post shows up on my dash I fucking lose it I just laugh so hard, it’s such a good post. The way it’s presented? Soap on a sink nozzle, okay clearly this is some sort of handwashing appliance. Then there’s just water going everywhere no further explanation it’s so good I’m so happy
What’s popping, you ask? Why, it’s my joints.
relistened to parade day and can confirm this line still hits
Instead of endless wastelands of mowed grass lawns, consider:
this only works in places with lots of rain, a temperate summer, and a nice cold winter. like England. or Michigan.
True! Unless you can find an economical way to irrigate, more appropriate lawn alternatives in hotter, more arid places might lean more to prairie meadows using local grasses and wildflowers:
Or, they might mean doing classic landscaping, but with rocks and xeriscape plants:
Or having a cactus garden:
There are lots of exciting possibilities once you throw the classic turf lawn out the window!
these are all so beautiful and all I can think is ‘that stone arc isn’t a stargate and I’m sad about it’
"I'm going to be a HORRIBLE Father one day BECAUSE OF YOU FUCKS."
-Every Cat Owner Ever At Some Point
*woman laughing in background while man admonishes his cat*
“-fucking helping. You did it. You’re helping. You’re gonna pick this up one little kernel at a time, and you’re gonna like it, cause I’m fucking fed up with your bullshit. I’m gonna be a horrible father one day because of you fucks.”
love is real
i took a philosophy class my first year at community college, and it was the funnest shit ever - prof gave us a powerpoint and told us to fight with him when we disagreed so we could have discussions, then gave us his steam username so we could play racing games together. one time, he told us this story about a prof he had in grad school - guy was tenured, and apparently a great teacher. but he had this time built into his schedule where other profs would be in labs, experimenting, doing research, where he stood in his empty classroom with a warm cup of tea and stared out the window. for these 1.5 hour schedule blocks. and the administration would come to him and be like “dude, we’re not paying you to stare out the window, why aren’t you working?” and he’d say, “i am working. i’m a philosopher, it’s my job to contemplate the world and life and that’s what I’m doing,” and they couldn’t do shit cause he was tenured. and then every handful of years he’d pop out a book that blew everybody’s tits off and they’d get a surge of new philosophy grads come to study with him and make the school a lot of money.
So yeah, i think that’s still what being a philosopher is like
Recovery is like cleaning out a house that’s been through a hurricane. There’s mud a foot thick on the floors; some of the windows are cracked; there’s leaves stuck in cracks you didn’t know existed.
So unlike in the movies, there are no “breakthrough moments”, where you suddenly realize one thing and the whole house is clean. Oh there may be important turning points – moments when you realize that those aren’t frosted windows, that’s dirt, and you need to clean it off, and that’s why it’s so fugging dark in here. And that is an important breakthrough, in the sense that without it you would not succeed in cleaning the house, but then you still have to clean the windows.
Therapy is just someone who’s had experience with post-hurricane cleanup, Consulting over the phone, recommending tools and giving you advice. “Start with the floor,” they say, when you’re too overwhelmed to even begin, and they tell you what shovel to buy. So you start shoveling, and it’s HARD, and you’re exhausted all the time, and you’ve only shoveled out the front hallway, and it feels like it’s never going to really get better.
But you do get good at shoveling, and slowly you build up your strength, and after a few months you can shovel as much as you need to, but there’s still a LOT of mud here, so it takes a year to get that shoveled out, and your house is still muddy and the windows are cracked (and frosted), and there’s still debris everywhere, and every time you walk around you’re stepping an a quarter-inch of mud, but you CAN walk around, you can get anywhere you need to go, and the house is still a fucking mess, you’re a fucking mess, a disaster not fit for human habitation, but on the other hand you can no longer convince yourself that “nothing’s ever going to work”. It can get better. You can point at things that used to be super-fucked-up and now are only moderately-fucked-up. Progress is possible.
But then again, you’re not making any progress anymore. You thought you had the hang of it, but now the shovel isn’t working, and every time you shovel mud out of one place it slides into another and you’re not making any headway and you can barely pick up any mud with your shovel anyway and so maybe that was it – you had a nice run, but this is as good as it’s ever gonna get, you’re still gonna be fucked up forever, and you finally bring it up to your therapist, and they nod, and tell you to buy a hose.
So now you’re hosing down the floors, and that’s a new skill set to learn, and it splashes everywhere, and now you’ve got mud on your walls, but it does get the floor clear. But you hosed out the front hallway, and then realized that to clear out the living room you’re gonna have to hose it out into the front hallway, which means the hallway’s just gonna get messy again, so then you have to redo the front hallway, but you start planning out which rooms to do in which order, so it goes pretty smoothly after that, until the day when you’ve got all the big mud puddles gone, but there’s still mud on the walls, and stuck in corners, and no matter how hard you spray you still end up with this thin coating of mud-dirt-dust on the floor after it dries, and honestly you’re making more of a mess than you are cleaning up a mess at this point. And you express your frustration, and the therapist tells you where to find, and how to use, a mop.
So you mop all the floors, and it’s actually looking pretty good, and you remembered to start mopping from the inside out, so that’s not a big deal, until you open a door and realize you forgot to shovel out the pantry. You didn’t think it could get into the pantry, with the door shut, but there it is, mud 3 inches thick, and the only way to get it out is to shovel it, and you’ll have to take it through the kitchen, so you have to shovel out the pantry, and then hose down the pantry, and then re-hose the kitchen, and then mop the pantry, and then re-mop the kitchen, and EUUURGHHHJHH.
But you’re really good at it, at this point, so it’s not like it’s a big deal. It’s irritating af, and you’re sick to death of doing this, but it’s not scary, or overwhelming, or horrifying. It’s just really, really annoying.
And the fact is, you will never be done cleaning. Even if there’s never another hurricane, there’s dishes, and dust settling on counters, and spills, and mud tracked in after snowstorms, and laundry. There’s not some magical moment when you’re “done”, and you can stop working forever (except possibly, depending on who’s right about the afterlife, after you die). But you do reach a point where you it transitions from “impossible” to “meh, just a thing”
You do reach a point where you look around, and you’re kinda proud of what you’ve done You do reach a point where you recognize that your current tools aren’t doing the job you need, and you research and find and learn how to use a tool all on your own. You do reach a point where, when you see a storm coming, you know how to prepare for it, and you purchase and lay out all the supplies you need, and when the storm finishes, you can get your house back up and ready in practically no time at all. You do reach a point where storms aren’t so scary, because you know how to weather them and you know for a fact that you can recover from them. You do reach a point where friends ask you for tips on how to clean their houses You do reach a point where, every time you need a tool, it’s one you already posses. You do reach a point where you’ve replaced all the windows and sealed up all the cracks and replaced the insulation, and for the first time, you’re comfortable all the way through a winter. You do reach a point where someone compliments you on how clean and comfortable your house is. You do reach a point where you’ve done all the remediation, and you can start remodeling the house to fit your needs.
So yeah, it’s a lot of hard work that’ll never be done. But it’s also so, so worth it.
A closeup from the day. :)
Sometimes it’s the small details in life that I love the most.
Good and pure
I’ll Just lay here for a little.
I’m a cis-gender man which basically means that, when I was born, the doctor went “It’s a boy!” and when I was old enough to understand I agreed with him.
The thing is, I don’t know why I feel like a man. I was teased and bullied for it a lot when I was little. I’ve never had stereotypically American male interests. I never cared about sports or cars or guns. I was more interested in music and cooking and the arts. I’ve always been emotionally in tune and sensitive, even when I did my best to suppress my emotions to survive a childhood of abuse from other children.
It’s not physical either. I don’t feel like a man because I have a penis or a beard. If you put my brain in a robot body or any other body, my essence would still feel male (I assume). I literally can’t imagine what being any other gender would feel like, since I feel so acutely male.
I think that’s why the concept of being transgender always made sense to me. I’m a man. I don’t have any bloody clue why I feel like a man, but I don’t feel that it’s tied to my body or my interests or the way that I’ve been treated. I feel like a man because of something beyond that. Something ephemeral. So, why couldn’t others feel the same? Why couldn’t a person who’s been misidentified as a girl feel like a boy for the exact same nebulous reasons that I do?
And, since gender really doesn’t make any sense to me anyway, why couldn’t there also be people who feel as if they don’t have one? Or who flow across genders like a ship on a map?
Are there people out there whose sense of their own gender is inseparable from their physical form? If you put those people into robot bodies or, simply, other physically different bodies, would their gender identity also swap? If so, why? Are they actually more lost in their gender identity than I am and they need to hone in on the physical in order to anchor themselves?
Why do people feel like they are the gender that they are?
This is very soul filling to read. Thank you
This is the only good type of cis take on trans/gnc tbh.
Bioluminescence series by Rob Rey
(Rob Rey’s Tumblr)
“GOP Senate quietly removes white nationalism from new requirements to screen military enlistees”
“On Thursday, the Huffington Post reported that the Senate-passed version of the National Defense Authorization Act — the annual spending bill to fund the military and national security services — quietly gutted a House-passed amendment that would have encouraged officials to screen prospective military enlistees for white nationalist ideology.
The amendment, authored by Rep. Pete Aguilar (D-CA) has been rewritten to direct the Department of Defense to explore how to screen recruits for “extremist and gang-related activity” — with the words “white nationalism” cut altogether.
The U.S. government has been aware that white supremacist violence is a growing threat for at least a decade, when a Department of Homeland Security official issued a 2009 report — attacked by conservative commentators — on the danger posed by domestic right-wing and racial terrorism. But in recent years it has become clear that these groups have also infiltrated military and law enforcement agencies, both to shape government policy and to gain easy access to weapons and combat training.
Several recent high-profile cases have made clear the dangers, including a Coast Guard lieutenant arrested after allegedly stockpiling firearms to assassinate several politicians and create a white ethnostate, and nearly a dozen members of the Army, Air Force, Marines, and Texas and Minnesota National Guards working with Identity Evropa (now the American Identity Movement), a white supremacist group that helped plan the deadly neo-Nazi riot in Charlottesville, Virginia. And the scale of the problem could be much worse. In 2017, a poll by the Military Times found that nearly 25 percent of servicemembers have encountered white nationalists in the ranks — and that a plurality see white nationalism as more dangerous than the combat zones of Iraq and Afghanistan.“
Tweet 1: “Wow, five people resigning from the pentagon in a week? Geez, I wonder what’s happening that has them so shocked and horrif- oh.” - assorted troublemakers@quatoria
Tweet 2: “The GOP Senate officially puts out the welcome mat for #whitesupremacists who want to enlist in the #military. This is today’s #GOP. #WhiteSupremacy” - Leia@TheSWPrincess
