#mash thoughts

[asmallcoat]

[personontheswing]

you ever think about how in MASH klingers many outfits are peak entertainment. everyone knows whats in his closet. they're placing bets on when he'll take the sunhats out, or wondering if he's really going to wear the yellow sundress for the third time this week.

[quordleona03]

Major M. Houlihan

If Major Houlihan transitioned FtM what would his name be?

[corporalcaptainnincompact]

M*A*S*H Thoughts...

Why is there a little door between the shower stalls? What practical, non-sexual, purpose does that have? It can’t possibly be for fire safety, they are in a shower with running water. Someone tell me please before my brain breaks. 

[billiethepoet]

scarygodmother replied to your post: DID I JUST LOSE A FOLLOWER FOR STANNING MASH???? ...

Co-sign your tags 100%.

I am willing to accept that I prefer Potter because I saw his eps first. But BJ is empirically better than Trapper in every way.  BJ Honeycutt is a god damn delight of a human being. 

[asmallcoat]

And if i said, "lesbian butch/fem sidney/hawkeye/bj," do you see the vision?

Like, what if "Just Keep Your Eyes on Me" by RemyFire but as dyke park cruising picnic?

Would you walk with me with that?

Image by Morgan Gwenwald posted by dyke.mania on instagram today, and i have NOT been able to stop thinking about it.

[personontheswing]

one time i drew an immaculate drawing of colonel flagg’s jawbone and it was wonderful and i loved it and I cannot recreate it. its driving me insane actually.

[spritepipis]

I think Hawkeye fishes just to fish. It’s something he got from Daniel. He remembers as a kid, maybe 12, going out to find his dad along the bank of some river or pond. One he’s heard the other locals sigh about, because the fish there never bite. And so he asks Daniel, who tells him that sometimes, he goes just to cast. In a better, more Pierce way, of course. He does it to decompress. To just breathe. It’s grounding. And so many years later, after the war, when Hawkeye can’t sit still anymore but wandering aimlessly seems like alarm bells activity, he packs up an old pole and tackle box from the garage and heads out to that spot. And as a kid, as a young man, during the war, he found silence oppressive. He had to move, he had to go; if he stopped and sat alone with his thoughts, he’d go crazy. And even now, it’s true to a degree. His thoughts are loud. But when combined, so is the sound of the water, the rustle of the leaves, the calls of the birds. And so he sits and casts and casts and casts. It’s just pointless enough to amuse him, to appeal to his sense of performance. But at some point it stops being a performance. And sometimes he stops to just sit. Sometimes he cries. But no one fishes here anyway, so what’s the harm. One day Daniel joins him out there and they cast and the soft whistle of the line unraveling joins the leaves and the birds and the soft bubble of the water, and eventually their soft conversation. And slowly but surely Hawk opens up to his father again, and it feels like maybe he *can* feel better. One day.