u should all go visit the antarctic it’s a great place i promise

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noise dept.
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Love Begins
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@theartofmadeline
$LAYYYTER
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Product Placement
we're not kids anymore.
Misplaced Lens Cap
Acquired Stardust

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izzy's playlists!
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@thehouseofbedlam
u should all go visit the antarctic it’s a great place i promise
Jim Davis tribute set to the entire original motion picture score of "Kundun" by Philip Glass featuring the philosophical musings of John Blyth Barrymore.
"What does a blind man see? Blackness. Darkness. Blankness. Black darkness. Dark blankness. The abscence of things. Quite literally, no thing. No things. Nothing. Nothings. So you see nothing, and I bring you into the light. A cat has your pipe. You've been blind, do you understand this? The cat has your pipe!" - This hour long video of a retired Kung Fu actor talking, exclusively, about the first Garfield strip
So I performed a song @ the good scoop and now the owner wants to pay me in ice cream to sing there again like what is my life what I’m so confused someone explain
a ‘stop trump’ reading list
I’ve seen one list going around but it consists mainly of books, which may be time-consuming or unavailable for some folks, and our ability to share them far and wide is limited. I compiled this list of online articles available for free plus archive.org links. Check on the notes if you save this link as I may occasionally reblog it to add articles that fit.
“Ur-Fascism” by Umberto Eco [mirror link] - an essential description of what fascism looks like.
“Autocracy: Rules for Survival” by Masha Gessen [mirror link] - avoiding complacency and deceit.
“Forget ‘Why,’ It’s Time to Get to Work” by Anil Dash [mirror link] - activism and consistency
“Don’t Let Anyone Tell You It’ll Be Okay” by Craig Martin [mirror link] - a very important debunking of all the rationalization going on around us.
“A madman has been given the keys to the surveillance state” by Cory Doctorow [mirror link] - a good reminder of why, even if all you do is talk to your niece on Facebook, we need to protect our digital freedom.
“No, We Won’t Calm Down” by Robothugs [mirror link] - how to avoid shutting out our marginalized allies, and how to recognize when someone is doing it to you
“The White Flight of Derek Black” by Eli Saslow [mirror link] - a powerful read on what it takes for a person to leave white nationalism behind.
“How to Help the Cause When You Need Help Yourself” by Carrie Cutforth [mirror link] - helpful reminders for activists with chronic illnesses or mental health issues. Read Spoon Theory, too, if you haven’t, for a helpful framework.
“On Arguing with the Upper Class” by The Coquette [mirror link] - why arguing with your friends on Facebook isn’t activism and it isn’t like what happened to Derek Black.
“A People’s History of the Third Reich” by Megan Carpentier [mirror link] - on collective responsibility and commonplace evil.
This post on fascist tactics from @smarmyanarchist [mirror link] - how to identify white supremacist bullshit and engage with it effectively.
um this is tight as fuck everybody read it!!!
I HATE THERMODYNAMICS SO MUCH
Leg so hot Hot hot leg Leg so hot you fry an egg
The signs as inexplicable feelings
Aries: Onism (the frustration of being stuck in just one body that inhabits only one place at a time) Taurus: Vemödalen (the frustration of photographing something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist)
Gemini: Rubatosis (the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat)
Cancer: Chrysalism (the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm)
Leo: Liberosis (the desire to care less about things.)
Virgo: Altschmerz (weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.)
Libra: Mauerbauertraurigkeit (the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.)
Scorpio: Opia (the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable)
Sagittarius: Nodus Tollens (the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore)
Capricorn: Jouska (a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.)
Aquarius: Exulansis (the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.)
Pisces: Sonder (the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.)
sweet dreams my pink friend
this is the only picture i want to look at for the rest of my life
Remember when we said We were going to be better And the world responded I’d like to see you try It was time to put our money where our mouths were To put our bodies where our words were and Put our blood where their blood was and is and shall be Instead we claimed the silence and the peace for ourselves Those trapped in the dust were left with the noise and the war The jewel of the world lost, a ship drifting aflame and unheard Remember when we started Fighting at the hardest point And our souls and arms Became coated in glory
Hanging Over
I wake with the splitting headache woodaxe ringing
Fire hydrants are fountains are playgrounds for children
And laughter like milk bottles isn’t an analgesic for a hangover
But there is a patty melt in the eye of the spirit who holds me
He is a true and faithful servant in the hour of need
Mouths don’t form words tongues ARE words but brains cannot mold
That which they cannot catch I ask you to consider this truth
To be self evident that the toilet bowl is the only god I kneel before
This Sunday morning, or any morning at all anymore
And that prayers are not balloons to be popped on the spinneret minaret
To be read by the flaming eye that rests above the pearly gates
They are the aftertaste of a night gone right and too real to be prayers
Those intangible things that are so unlike this pounding of temples
The pounding of drums in the temple to the god of my past self
That ceremony spectacular, immaculate disaster of prose dribbling down my chin
Or is that vomit, who knows?
I know only that I am awake
And that the aching grows
Psalms 1:1
My love oh my love oh my dearest dearest love Where are the verses for times like these? Where is the bible for people like us? Where are the poems made true by belief? What words can I say for these things that hold themselves Like white noise silhouettes, they have taken your eyes And I cannot help you see but I want you to hear Songs that you love played on the radio, and the Words that you have always held to be true and that Will wipe tears away from your starry cheeks - We do not have the 2000 years that they might Have had to refine their creed, but the punches we hide Inside our mouths will send God back to heaven with A bloody nose and the Devil will weep at us That we have made his voice heard by those Who stood above the city tempting mankind with An eternity of salvation and our bible will be read At the funerals of our friends and it will be A litany of love poured into the dark earth where The souls of ourselves will finally find rest.
I want my friends to be safe
I want my friends to be safe and I want them to laugh without worry
I want them to smile without a thought in mind
I want to watch their pictures pop up on Facebook
I want to pray with my friends, drink tea with my friends, watch movies with my friends
That is all that I’ve ever wanted for them
To be alive
To be whole
To be happy
But apparently
This is too radical a stance
For the country at large
Remember this: that when all is said and done Our grandchildren watch us through bookpages And they will cry bitter tears At the lives we could have lived
Her face is worn like she has been trying on smiles for years hoping someday one will fit She gives gifts to the squirrels, puts sunshine in bottles for the kids who come around Asking about her dead dog She only shows her hands because she is ashamed of her arms But I have seen how the butterflies kiss her wrists Before working their way up to her lips And how silence rests soft on her tongue While the curtains sing lullabies
The transgressiveness of sexual banter–its tendency to report markedly offensive acts or desires in deliberately offensive (or in the media’s terms, ‘lewd’) language, is not just accidental, a case of men allowing the mask to slip when they think they’re alone. It’s deliberate, and it’s part of the bonding process. Like the sharing of secrets, the sharing of transgressive desires, acts and words is a token of intimacy and trust. It says, ‘I am showing that I trust you by saying things, and using words, that I wouldn’t want the whole world to hear’. It’s also an invitation to the hearer to reciprocate by offering some kind of affiliative response, whether a token of approval like appreciative laughter, or a matching transgressive comment. (‘I trust you, now show that you trust me’.) When a private transgressive conversation becomes public, and the speaker who said something misogynist (or racist or homophobic) is publicly named and shamed, he often protests, as Trump did, that it was ‘just banter’, that he is not ‘really’ a bigot, and that his comments have been ‘taken out of context’. And the rest of us marvel at the barefaced cheek of these claims. How, we wonder, can this person disavow his obvious prejudice by insisting that what he said wasn’t, ‘in context’, what he meant? What I’ve just said about the role of transgressive speech in male bonding suggests an answer (though as I’ll explain in a minute, that’s not the same as an excuse). Public exposure does literally take this kind of conversation out of its original context (the metaphorical ‘locker room’, a private, all-male setting). And when the talk is removed from that context, critics will focus on its referential content rather than its interpersonal function. They won’t appreciate (or care) that what’s primarily motivating the boasting, the misogyny, the offensive language and the laughter isn’t so much the speakers’ hatred of women as their investment in their fraternal relationship with each other. They’re like fishermen telling tall tales about their catches, or old soldiers exaggerating their exploits on the battlefield: their goal is to impress their male peers, and the women they insult are just a means to that end. As I said before, though, that’s not meant to be an excuse: I’m not suggesting that banter isn’t ‘really’ sexist or damaging to women. On the contrary, I’m trying to suggest that it’s more damaging than most critical discussions acknowledge. Banter is not just what commentators on the Trump tape have mostly treated it as–a window into the mind of an individual sexist or misogynist. It’s a ritualised social practice which contributes to the maintenance of structural sexual inequality. This effect does not depend on what the individuals involved ‘really think’ about women. (I have examples of both sexist and homophobic banter where I’m certain that what some speakers say is not what they really think, because they’re gay and everyone involved knows that.) It’s more a case of ‘all that’s needed for evil to flourish is for good men to go along with it for the lolz’. […] I said earlier that when Trump and his companions on the bus talked about women, the women were not the real point: they were like the fish in a fishing story or the faceless enemy in a war story. But that wasn’t meant to be a consoling thought (‘don’t worry, women, it’s nothing personal, they’re just bonding with each other by talking trash about you’). When you talk about people it SHOULD be personal–it should involve the recognition of the other as a human being with human feelings like your own. Heterosexual banter is one of the practices that teach men to withhold that recognition from women, treating them as objects rather than persons.
On banter, bonding, and Donald Trump - Deborah Cameron has written a good analysis of the linguistic problems with “just banter” on her blog.
Also relevant: this twitter thread on the social function of humour and why there’s no such thing as “just joking”.
(via allthingslinguistic)
life hack: u dont have to be a wolf to yell sad noises at the moon
Transcript 6/9/2016; 00:20
Hey, you ever hear about the ship of Theseus?
What?
The concept, fuckin’ about is a thing still itself if all the pieces aren’t the same?
Like your body? Cells dying off and such like?
Yeah kinda, actually yeah. That’s it. When do you stop being you?
Don’t brain cells never die?
Shit, idunno. Would it matter if your memories are still there?
Watch out for that pothole
*subdued noises, cloth moving on cloth*
Did you hear about Sam?
You already told me this story
Shit really? Does that mean I ain’t myself now?
What?
You know, like the ship... never mind. Memories bein’ the only thing we have and my memories slipping...
Oh oh oh. I get you now. Yeah. Maybe it is similar in nature to an army.
How’s that?
It does not matter who the general is or who the soldiers are, it still runs and is still the same army for the same country. All the units are united by a cause, and even if every part gets replaced, it is still “the army”, do you follow me?
So in that case am I the imperialist general, or his stooges?
Shut up you blasted commie
*muffled laughter*
Oh here is the In ‘n Out, turn off
*wheels on gravel, engine turns off*
Fuck I’m hungry man, *car door opens, closes x2*
Don’t get me started, you didn’t just drive for five hours
*Tape Ends Here*