Just a blog idk @sun-shines-today-also - Tumblr Blog

with a little help from his older brother, Hank Green has invented an absurdly enjoyable word-spelling game called smush.

quasi-normalcy

So what I think is that there's this default belief in patriarchy that men are superior to women and therefore the "masculine" sphere is superior to the "feminine" sphere. And so, as feminists have fought to expand the number of allowable female activities, men (on the aggregate over generations) have retreated from those activities because they're now seen as "feminine", and so partaking in them is incommensurate with their belief in their own superiority. And, unfortunately, as this has progressed, this has resulted in a lot of men sectioning themselves off from, frankly, everything that actually makes being alive worthwhile. It's a misery spiral, and the only way out is to abandon male supremacy.

quasi-normalcy

#men gave up deep friendships and reading and poetry and colourful fashion#all things that used to be considered manly in the 19th century#they're currently giving up on studying law and medecine#it's so stupid and sad

(I mean, the colourful fashion was more of an eighteenth century thing, but yeah)

quasi-normalcy

#more women in higher education meaning fewer men is incredibly depressing to me. funny in a sad way#what happens when women will finally get into trades? will they just stop working

sherryzade

spectacular tags from @luesmainblog

bigbluefishi

Eowyn 🐴

charl0ttan

will the owner of the goalpost out in the bailey please move it down the slippery slope towards the middle ground where a strawman is currently begging the question. we have a bandwagon waiting to help you, unless youre too much of an uneducated dipshit to handle any of that, in which case we can circle back to a true scotsman who will be able to appeal to our authority.

draconym

When I am king, we will valorize sanitation workers the way we currently valorize the military

thegrindingwheel

So heroic posters showing trashmen battling allegorical monsters? I'm down.

draconym

Yeah but that's just the beginning. I also want Sanitation Worker Discounts at every business and blockbuster movie propaganda glorifying sanitation work. I want random people to salute garbage collectors and thank them for their service. I want drivers who get impatient with the recycling truck and honk at it and swerve around it to become social pariahs

illusoryfem

lafactoriadelmeme

Con sonido! 🔈🔉🔊

abadbowlofsoup

The face of a woman regretting the music lessons.

cipheramnesia

This is fairly close to the relationship I had with my mom.

adamsmasher

i love those little moments where her face lights up because the joy of the joke far outweighs how sick of it she is. like the moment with the star wars music? *chef’s kiss*

sometiktoksarevalid

beleester

>#I love how this gag would be funny at any point since the third century BCE

depsidase

unpretty

“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it

unpretty

The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.

According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.

Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.

Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.

Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.

They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.

The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.

She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.

Born 2018.

Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?

Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.

Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.

Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.

“Eyup,” Martha agreed.

“Don’t look government.”

“Nope.”

“We burying him?”

“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”

“You sure? Looks heavy.”

“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”

Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.

Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.

Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.

Keep reading

quasi-normalcy

Every single person I know who did football in high school, without exception, has a chronic injury. Many regret what it's done to their knees and back, even major organs like the brain.

There is no serious legislative push to ban high school football.

quasi-normalcy

Also, like, if you want to talk about social pressure on minors to undertake activities that will result in regrettable, irreversible damage to their bodies:

No one, *ever*, tried to persuade me to transition.

My gym teacher tried to persuade me to try out for the football team almost every single day that I was in junior high.

quasi-normalcy

#i firmly believe that the reason why concussions and brain damage in general#are not taken nearly as seriously as they should be#is because of football#if we take concussions and brain trauma seriously then we have to acknowledge the risks that children are undertaking at even#high school level football#but we can't do that#because the kids need to play football in high school so they can play football in college so they can join the NFL#This time I'm really gonna queue it.

vaspider

Not a single one of my wife's fingers is completely straight. If you look at them closely -- which I have, many times, over the past 22 years -- you can see where they were broken, over and over, taped in place, and where she just kept fucking playing.

When I first met her, she used to joke about how her coach said, "I could get more than that out of a pig if I kicked it hard enough," and that was the nicest fucking thing he said. Two decades later, she's like, "Yeah, that man verbally and physically abused all of us for years."

There is at least one football game she played in high school that she simply doesn't remember, because she was a linebacker. She got a concussion. She got up and kept playing... or so she's told. She doesn't remember, because she had a fucking concussion and they let her keep playing.

I hate football so much. It ruined her back, her knees, fucked up her hands... everyone was so obsessed with how tall she was, how broad-shouldered. No one ever pushed her to transition, but I fucking wish someone had at least suggested it. That would have hurt her so much less than FUCKING FOOTBALL. Like, it would have been actually beneficial to her.

mchug

I heard that one of the actual reasons that organizations like the NFL have tried so hard to downplay CTE and other injuries like it is because they’re terrified that moms will refuse to let their children play football anymore and that entire massive industry will come collapsing down because of it.

vaspider

That fucking scans.