Literally my reaction everytime Piper tries to be tough
almost home
Sade Olutola

Kiana Khansmith
One Nice Bug Per Day
Peter Solarz
DEAR READER
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium

oozey mess
d e v o n
will byers stan first human second
wallacepolsom

Discoholic 🪩
NASA
Three Goblin Art

titsay
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@wordflood
Literally my reaction everytime Piper tries to be tough
Trying to schedule a date when you work/teach literally every evening like...
??? see you never ???
huffington post going in
dog conquers fear of doorways
OH MY GOD BABY, YOU BIG FUCKING DORK NO, I CAN’T COPE WITH YOU
#OregonUnderAttack: Armed Extremists Occupy Federal Building | TeleSur
me: i don't have to be the best at everything, it's unrealistic and impossible, i can just be satisfied with who i am right now
brain: okay but consider: you DO have to be the best at everything and anything else is unacceptable and pathetic
me: shit you're right
The Red Sponge: Spongebob’s Role in Enforcing an Oppressive, Capitalistic Society
Every millennial who grew up watching “Spongebob Squarepants” has come to the same horrifying conclusion: you have turned into Squidward. No matter how buoyant, how cheerful, how optimistic you were as a child, there comes a point where you begin to identify with Squidward more than any other character in the show.
You could explain this phenomenon with the disillusionment and cynicism of growing up, or the burdens of being a teenager in a post-John Hughes society. There is, however, an even simpler answer. Spongebob is an allegory for Karl Marx’s The Communist Manifesto. The show revolves around Spongebob, the hardworking proletariat, accepting a low-level fry cook job and enduring Mr. Krabs’ exploitation with a grin on his face.
The face of compliance
It’s not hard to draw the parallels between Mr. Krabs and the bourgeoisie. He’s a cheapskate who underpays and overworks his employees for his own personal gain. Mr. Krabs famously ripped off his own arms (claws?) to retrieve a dime that fell down the drain. He took his workers on a boating trip to retrieve his millionth dollar from the jaws of a giant clam. He has zero regard for his employees’ safety and almost routinely puts them in danger for his own benefit. Mr. Krabs’ daughter, Pearl is an extension of the bourgeoisie archetype. She’s vain, self-centered, and largely unaware of others’ misfortune. She lives in a bubble, obsessed with clothes, makeup, and celebrities — because she has the leisure for such frivolities.
Remember when Pearl gentrified The Krusty Krab
Speaking of living in a bubble, Sandy is not exempt from analysis. Sandy is quite literally shielded away from the rest of the world. She represents the intellectual elite, using her privilege and higher education to jeopardize working class jobs and further the industrial revolution. Her endeavors into space mirror the Cold War-era “Space Race,” capitalism versus communism. Her voyage ends on the moon, just like the U.S.’s did. On top of her scientific record, Sandy is independent and self-sufficient, exemplifying capitalistic ideals of individualism.
If Sandy is the intellectual elite, then Patrick Star is just the opposite. Patrick represents the bourgeois caricature of the working class that capitalists want you to buy into. He is ignorant, undereducated, and lazy. He lives under a rock, likely because he can’t afford anything else — although he doesn’t seem to mind. Patrick appears to deserve his poverty because he does nothing but sleep, yet he also seems at peace with his lot. This idea of the happy, unproductive bum simultaneously vilifies and justifies the proletariat. “See, they’re poor because they just don’t work hard enough! In fact, they like being poor!” Patrick Star is arguably one of the most offensive cartoon depictions of this generation.
Blatant vilification of blue-collar workers
Spongebob, on the other hand, represents the ideal proletariat. Spongebob is hardworking, humble, and endlessly optimistic. He’s a lot like us before we realized the inherent evils of a capitalistic society. Day in and day out, Spongebob gleefully works a minimum-wage job flipping burgers with no hope of promotion. He’s a cog in Mr. Krabs’ greasy machine, but he doesn’t even realize it. He just continues to skip to work every day, chanting “I’m ready!”. Ready for what, Spongebob? Ready for the bourgeoisie Kool-aid he’s been absorbing through his poriferous sponge body.
Spongebob is the ideal worker, and as children, we aspired to be just like him. The very first episode of Spongebob showed him getting his first job as fry cook. According to the show, the very best achievement you could receive is being gainfully employed. Not only employed, but tirelessly productive and efficient to maximize your manager’s profits. Spongebob famously served busloads of anchovies at a never-before-seen pace. It wasn’t enough that Spongebob could perform his job well; he had to go above and beyond his duty in order to seem valuable. These are the principles we instilled in the youth of today. What went wrong?
Back, finally, to Squidward. Squidward isn’t like Spongebob or Patrick. He isn’t satisfied in his low-level employment. What Squidward seeks is artistic satisfaction and world renown. He covets the success of his employer without achieving the work ethic necessary for someone of his class to ascend. Squidward has realized that the cards have been stacked against him at every turn, and resigns himself bitterly to the clutches of capitalism. If Squidward were less jaded, he could be the catalyst to prompt full-scale class warfare, perhaps ending in a communist utopia. Unfortunately, Squidward’s defeatist personality and egoism prevents him from implementing social change.
Mfw I realized I will never dismantle oppressive power structures that infiltrate our economic landscape
That is why we are all Squidward. We’ve uncovered the limits of capitalism and realized that hard work may not always pay off. We’ve begun to notice the oppressive economic and social structure that infiltrates our everyday life. We yearn for something higher, but feel that change is out of our reach. We become bitter, combative, self-deprecative, and cynical. There’s a reason Squidward is the unhappiest character on “Spongebob.” Not only for faults of his own, but for his own rotten luck. The show subliminally punishes Squidward for his views, hoping to prod viewers back towards Spongebob’s blithe, unfounded optimism.
Their efforts were to no avail. Millions of millennials are finding themselves disillusioned, realizing all along that Squidward was the reasonable one. He had a right to protest Mr. Krabs’ vile working conditions, and his sarcasm was merely a coping mechanism for the injustices placed against him. Squidward is the dissatisfied proletariat, and we identify with him more than ever. The difference is, we have the energy and collective power to succeed where he could not. Together, we can rise up and defeat the bourgeoisie, establishing an egalitarian society that does not prey on the lower classes. In the words of Spongebob, “I’m ready.” Are you?
@wardenoftheeast
This amazing video is well worth taking a moment to watch, via NBC News.
since the san bernardino shooting, i have been scared to leave my home. in the past week, i’ve gone out only when necessary, i’ve even avoided grocery shopping.
hate crimes are rising against muslims, especially those in scarves, people like me.
last night, i had an interview, i parked my car and as i was walking up to the building, a white car sped up to me, parked, and angry looking white man got out of his car–with a bat.
he was 10 feet away, getting closer. and i had to think. in a split second i stood tall and unafraid hoping that would discourage him, and quickly pulled out my pepper spray.
he walked right passed me.
i ran into the building–where my interview was. i was visibly shaken and they could tell. i told them an angry man was about to beat someone up with a bat 40 feet from their building, they took the necessary precautions and i headed to the bathroom. i was still shaking but after a few minutes i was able to calm myself down and head into a panel interview of ten people.
this is my reality. i was infinitely lucky last night, but i can tell you in that 3 second span of seeing that man with a bat, i had already imagined myself beaten to death. but i was lucky.
and this is just an example, a small example of the fear that is instilled deep in me, as a woman, as a visible muslim, that people want me dead. that people do not see me as a human, but rather as a target. last night, i was lucky, but i sense this fear constantly throughout my day, i never feel safe, i always feel vulnerable, because at any moment, what i’ve heard happen to my other muslim sisters–getting harassed and beaten, having someone stop their car in a busy traffic street and pull a gun out–i see these things happening to my friends, and im just waiting–because im living with the certainty that im next.
ive been trying to figure out the reasons to why i felt the need to post this last night. i knew i wanted to share, but the reasons were foggy.
after having some time to think…i think its come down to this:
1. i wanted to share my reality. for those of you who are not targeted for the color of your skin, for your attire; for those of you who are not held responsible by the rest of the world for the actions of few—you are living a privileged life. your basic natural rights are a blessing.
2. this is the outcome of hate speech. this is what happens when fear mongering is utilized as political strategy. this is the result. innocent people pay the price. we are scared for our families, for our little brothers and sisters, who are being verbally and physically harassed at school, we are scared for our parents, who are older, becoming frail, and would not be able to defend themselves or run away. we are scared for ourselves, bc at any moment, our lives could end bc someone decided that we were the enemy.
3. muslims do not support isis or any other terrorist organization. isis kills muslims more than any other group, and now islamophobes are after us, too. we are paying the ultimate price, we are the most targeted, we are the most hated.
im scared. and i dont deserve to be.
I know this such an irrational thing to get mad over but when my headphones get caught on something and yanked out I legit have to take three seconds to freeze and contain my anger
That awkward moment when you don't know if a car is going to let you cross.
hahahaha
EXACT REACTION OMG
omfg 267% accurate
I get sick of tumblr’s version of self care, which 90% of the time threads into this beautifully: go pet a fuzzy cute animal! pile up your favorite blankets from childhood and watch disney movies! take a nap! play a game from this list of cute soothings games!
More realistically: go take a shower because it’s been three days. Wash the dishes that have been in the sink since last Friday that you can smell as soon as you open your door because rotting food stinks. Pick all your clothes off the floor because that’s where your entire wardrobe is and you’ve already cried today because you tripped over a sweater and realized the cat puked on it. Call someone who can give you enough courage to pay that bill you’ve been ignoring. Put away the crackers because that’s all you’ve eaten for two days straight. Apologize to the friends who are worried sick about you, and if you can’t at least let them know you are ok and need space.
One of the most empowering types of self-care is responsibility, but tumblr just wants to sit in a closet strung with fairy lights and read their favorite fic.
“Cute” self-care for “cute” mental issues. That’s not reality.
Finally someone said this
What’s your secret to maintaining your 20-some-year friendship? TF: We don’t see each other very often. AP: That’s right. [Laughs.] It’s like a good marriage. My mom always says it’s very important to have people in your life who knew you when. The older you get, the more you treasure that idea of someone knowing your family and where you came from, and being around during these times and these times. Tina and I, we don’t have any sisters. So we’ve rented them.
Say that at 18 I slap down enough money so I could have my whole body covered head-to-toe in tattoos, piercings all over myself, a mountain of cigarettes, plastic surgery, and plan to have like 20 babies… but if I try at all to safely make it impossible for me to breed for the sake of my health suddenly its like WOAH THERE SLOW DOWN MISSY YOU’RE NOT READY FOR THIS KIND OF COMMITMENT YET
I have stage III Endometriosis, which means I have to get my uterus removed because I literally have terrible cramps ALL THE TIME and not just when I’m on my period. Now, I’ve always said I don’t want any children for personal reasons and I don’t need my uterus, really. I am not worried about that surgery and I don’t feel any kind of nostalgia over an organ I won’t ever use.
The thing is, my doctor is a ‘man’. This ‘man’ told me I had to get pregnant right now before it’s too late. I told him I didn’t want to get pregnant and explained the multiple reasons but what, do you ask, did my doctor have to say about this? ‘Well, better have a kid now because just imagine how depressing it must be being a thirty-something woman without children and a husband?’
I was diagnosed a year ago. I should have gone through surgery six months ago and I still can’t find a doctor that will perform the surgery without trying to force me to have children first. Basically, if you’re a woman you don’t have a say in what can and cannot be done to your body without a shitload of people getting in the way AND I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT.
A dear friend of mine wanted to have her tubes tied. She was about to give birth to twins and the doctors wouldn’t consent because she wasn’t 21 yet. She had already had children and they still refused to let her have the procedure.
My friend got a vasectomy a week after asking his doctor for one, no problem. He was 25.
Me? I’ve asked 4 different doctors for some kind of permanent sterilisation—tubal ligation or Essure or whatever—and I get a pat on the head and a “You’d regret it if you did.”
Oh, DIDN’T REALIZE YOU HAD A DIRECT LINE TO MY BRAIN.
This is horrifying.