![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Dec. 7th, 2018
via https://ift.tt/2E7SL4X
organasrey:
vaspider:
thefingerfuckingfemalefury:
organasrey:
the first meme of 2018 is
carrie fisher entering the room wielding a bat that she is absolutely prepared to use
A QUALITY MEME
Truth Coming Out Of Her Well To Kick The Shit Out Of Mankind
now tumblr is censoring the titties of Truth please feel free to use this great carrie fisher infused substitute
organasrey:
vaspider:
thefingerfuckingfemalefury:
organasrey:
the first meme of 2018 is
carrie fisher entering the room wielding a bat that she is absolutely prepared to use
A QUALITY MEME
Truth Coming Out Of Her Well To Kick The Shit Out Of Mankind
now tumblr is censoring the titties of Truth please feel free to use this great carrie fisher infused substitute
via https://ift.tt/2Eg0DlP
theweefreewomen:
yesterdaysprint:
The San Francisco Examiner, California, August 1, 1954
[headline: Rocket Age version. text: Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Up above the world so far;
When we reach you, will you greet us,
Be glad to see us, or mayhap, eat us?]
theweefreewomen:
yesterdaysprint:
The San Francisco Examiner, California, August 1, 1954
[headline: Rocket Age version. text: Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
Up above the world so far;
When we reach you, will you greet us,
Be glad to see us, or mayhap, eat us?]
via https://ift.tt/2E7Tnrh
lauramkaye:
notallwerewolves:
mirrormaskcamera:
tanyaclose:
Illustration in Ladies Home Journal, June 1940
Tom Lovell
this looks like red has just this moment decided to murder grey’s husband
^ Accurate
Evie had always been such a happy girl.
Josephine had never really understood it–the world had always seemed to her a serious place, disaster always lurking just around the corner. Perhaps it was because of the way she’d grown up, living hardscrabble with her mother and grandmother, her father having succumbed to the mustard gas in the war before she’d even made her appearance, leaving her with only her name and the color of her eyes to know him by. Perhaps it was just Evie’s sunny nature, that always looked for the best in people, that went through life with a song always on her lips.
Josephine had no sisters, and she didn’t have time for friends, but Evie had always been both to her. Both, and something more besides: something tender and precious, to be sheltered and preserved.
She’d had her misgivings, when Evie started walking out with the butcher’s son George. The old man was kind, true, but his son always seemed a little too eager with the cleavers, too pushy with the girls, too free with his hands.
Evie only saw the good in him. “He feels he has to put on a show with the other fellows, Jo,” she’d said, “but he always treats me nice. He wants to keep me like a fine lady, he says, all fancy like a jewel in a shop window. And he’ll have the shop, some day. He can keep a family. I think we can be happy together.”
It had hurt, somewhere inside behind her ribs, but Josephine had told herself she was being absurd. Of course Evie deserved it, the man and the shop and the family, all of it.
She had looked tiny and delicate and lovely, standing up beside George in her wedding dress, her hair shining nearly silver where the light hit it. After, Josephine had watched them walk away together and told herself she was crying because she was happy.
She didn’t see Evie again for a while, but that wasn’t such a surprise; Evie was a new bride with a home to make, and besides, the old butcher’s health had started to fail. It was a surprise, then, when the knock came at her door one night after supper, and she opened it to find Evie on the other side.
Evie, but not Evie, not really; Evie with her lips turned down, no laughter in her eyes.
She said there wasn’t anything wrong. She was just a little lonely; George had to be out on business often, of an evening.
“You can always come to me, darling,” Josephine told her, and a little light came back into Evie’s eyes.
“Good old Jo,” she said, her voice wistful. “How I have missed you.”
Life went on. Evie was tired, now. George was gone a lot, for the business, she said, and there was so much to do. “We just have to get established, Jo,” she said. “It’s been hard, with George’s father so ill, and the shop to run, but a few more years, he says, and we’ll have some space. He wants to buy me a house one day, have I told you? We’ll have room for you to come and stay, and we’ll all be so happy together.”
George’s father died, and the shop did a good business, but no more was said about buying a house.
It was several months later when it happened. Josephine was just starting her meal when the knocking started, frantic and light like the hammering of a bird on a window. When she opened the door, Evie nearly collapsed into her arms.
She looked a fright: shirt torn, face bruised and bloody. It took nearly an hour to get the story out of her, whispered between sobs that shook her thin body. Coming home early from visiting her mother. Finding George with another woman in their bed. The things he’d shouted at her, the horrible things; how she was ugly and cold, no kind of wife.
The way he’d backhanded her into the bureau.
The precious, happy secret she’d been planning to tell him. The one that had her doubled over now, sick with fear. The baby.
Josephine shushed her, stroking her hair, letting her hide her poor face while she wept.
“Oh, darling,” she said. “My poor darling.”
When Evie had cried herself pliant, Josephine helped her into her own nightdress and put her to sleep in her own bed, with a sleeping tablet for peaceful dreams.
Then she put on her business clothes and went to pay a call.
She didn’t have many friends, but there were a lot of people who owed her favors. She had quite a line in the trading of secrets, in the opening and shutting of doors.
The next morning, the butcher’s boy was opening the shop alone.
“Where’s George?” Josephine asked him, while he packaged up a pound of sausages. Evie had always been fond of sausages.
“He had to go away on business,” the boy replied. “And Miss Evie, she’s off to her mother’s.”
“Well, I wish them safe travels,” Josephine said, and went home to make Evie some breakfast.
The news came later that day. There had been a robbery. Terrible business. Everyone was so grieved for the young widow.
Josephine moved in above the shop to help out. Evie needed her, after all; she had the shop to deal with, and there would be the baby soon.
When the baby came, it was a little girl. Evie was white and weary, but the light was in her eyes again as she looked at Josephine over the little bundle.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Jo?” she said. “What shall we call her?”
“I’ve always liked the name Judith,” Josephine said, thinking of a cruel man, of a bright blade.
“Judith,” Evie said. “Yes, I like that.” She reached out a hand, and Josephine took it.
“We’ll bring her up properly,” Josephine said.
“You won’t be leaving us, then, Jo? Surely you’ll want to find a husband some day.”
“I think we’ve had enough of husbands,” Josephine said. “We shall do very well with just us three.”
Evie smiled. “I’m so selfish,” she whispered. “I know I hadn’t ought to say, but I’m so glad, Jo, for you to stay with us.”
“So am I, darling,” Josephine said, gladness rising like a fire in her heart. “So am I.”
lauramkaye:
notallwerewolves:
mirrormaskcamera:
tanyaclose:
Illustration in Ladies Home Journal, June 1940
Tom Lovell
this looks like red has just this moment decided to murder grey’s husband
^ Accurate
Evie had always been such a happy girl.
Josephine had never really understood it–the world had always seemed to her a serious place, disaster always lurking just around the corner. Perhaps it was because of the way she’d grown up, living hardscrabble with her mother and grandmother, her father having succumbed to the mustard gas in the war before she’d even made her appearance, leaving her with only her name and the color of her eyes to know him by. Perhaps it was just Evie’s sunny nature, that always looked for the best in people, that went through life with a song always on her lips.
Josephine had no sisters, and she didn’t have time for friends, but Evie had always been both to her. Both, and something more besides: something tender and precious, to be sheltered and preserved.
She’d had her misgivings, when Evie started walking out with the butcher’s son George. The old man was kind, true, but his son always seemed a little too eager with the cleavers, too pushy with the girls, too free with his hands.
Evie only saw the good in him. “He feels he has to put on a show with the other fellows, Jo,” she’d said, “but he always treats me nice. He wants to keep me like a fine lady, he says, all fancy like a jewel in a shop window. And he’ll have the shop, some day. He can keep a family. I think we can be happy together.”
It had hurt, somewhere inside behind her ribs, but Josephine had told herself she was being absurd. Of course Evie deserved it, the man and the shop and the family, all of it.
She had looked tiny and delicate and lovely, standing up beside George in her wedding dress, her hair shining nearly silver where the light hit it. After, Josephine had watched them walk away together and told herself she was crying because she was happy.
She didn’t see Evie again for a while, but that wasn’t such a surprise; Evie was a new bride with a home to make, and besides, the old butcher’s health had started to fail. It was a surprise, then, when the knock came at her door one night after supper, and she opened it to find Evie on the other side.
Evie, but not Evie, not really; Evie with her lips turned down, no laughter in her eyes.
She said there wasn’t anything wrong. She was just a little lonely; George had to be out on business often, of an evening.
“You can always come to me, darling,” Josephine told her, and a little light came back into Evie’s eyes.
“Good old Jo,” she said, her voice wistful. “How I have missed you.”
Life went on. Evie was tired, now. George was gone a lot, for the business, she said, and there was so much to do. “We just have to get established, Jo,” she said. “It’s been hard, with George’s father so ill, and the shop to run, but a few more years, he says, and we’ll have some space. He wants to buy me a house one day, have I told you? We’ll have room for you to come and stay, and we’ll all be so happy together.”
George’s father died, and the shop did a good business, but no more was said about buying a house.
It was several months later when it happened. Josephine was just starting her meal when the knocking started, frantic and light like the hammering of a bird on a window. When she opened the door, Evie nearly collapsed into her arms.
She looked a fright: shirt torn, face bruised and bloody. It took nearly an hour to get the story out of her, whispered between sobs that shook her thin body. Coming home early from visiting her mother. Finding George with another woman in their bed. The things he’d shouted at her, the horrible things; how she was ugly and cold, no kind of wife.
The way he’d backhanded her into the bureau.
The precious, happy secret she’d been planning to tell him. The one that had her doubled over now, sick with fear. The baby.
Josephine shushed her, stroking her hair, letting her hide her poor face while she wept.
“Oh, darling,” she said. “My poor darling.”
When Evie had cried herself pliant, Josephine helped her into her own nightdress and put her to sleep in her own bed, with a sleeping tablet for peaceful dreams.
Then she put on her business clothes and went to pay a call.
She didn’t have many friends, but there were a lot of people who owed her favors. She had quite a line in the trading of secrets, in the opening and shutting of doors.
The next morning, the butcher’s boy was opening the shop alone.
“Where’s George?” Josephine asked him, while he packaged up a pound of sausages. Evie had always been fond of sausages.
“He had to go away on business,” the boy replied. “And Miss Evie, she’s off to her mother’s.”
“Well, I wish them safe travels,” Josephine said, and went home to make Evie some breakfast.
The news came later that day. There had been a robbery. Terrible business. Everyone was so grieved for the young widow.
Josephine moved in above the shop to help out. Evie needed her, after all; she had the shop to deal with, and there would be the baby soon.
When the baby came, it was a little girl. Evie was white and weary, but the light was in her eyes again as she looked at Josephine over the little bundle.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Jo?” she said. “What shall we call her?”
“I’ve always liked the name Judith,” Josephine said, thinking of a cruel man, of a bright blade.
“Judith,” Evie said. “Yes, I like that.” She reached out a hand, and Josephine took it.
“We’ll bring her up properly,” Josephine said.
“You won’t be leaving us, then, Jo? Surely you’ll want to find a husband some day.”
“I think we’ve had enough of husbands,” Josephine said. “We shall do very well with just us three.”
Evie smiled. “I’m so selfish,” she whispered. “I know I hadn’t ought to say, but I’m so glad, Jo, for you to stay with us.”
“So am I, darling,” Josephine said, gladness rising like a fire in her heart. “So am I.”
via https://ift.tt/2EiHaAG
taraljc:
fangirlunderground:
roxolotl:
Look i dont wanna sound like a Fandom Mom or whatever but what do you think women over 25 or so are supposed to do? Do u really think theyre supposed to drop all their interests and just talk about taxes and marriage or whatever? It seems like 25+ year old fanboys do not receive this kind of “ooh cringe” reaction either. There are guys in their 40s with comic book collections and shit and people might think theyre a nerd at worst, not a freak who shouldnt be trusted
Thank you. Because, here’s the thing, I literally tried that. And this sounds really dramatic but it kind of ruined my life for a long time.
Once I got out of grad-school and started working, at exactly age 25, I figured it was time to get serious because I was “too old for this stuff” and frankly I was afraid of being judged.
I sold all my comics, I stopped reading fanfiction, I stopped playing video games. All of it. It’s not that I never, ever watched anything “geeky” or spent a weekend binge-reading a kink-meme, but when I did, it was rare and I’d feel guilty about it like it was time wasted. I’d keep it all to myself, you know? And without any kind of inspiration, I eventually stopped drawing. After all, I didn’t need it for my “serious job,” so why bother? Unfortunately, my former skill is so atrophied now it’s nearly lost, but worse than that, it’s stressful now instead of the thing I loved to do for most of my life.
What was I doing instead? Well, I’d work my miserable, toxic job, come home and worry about how far behind everyone else I was, and how weird I was compared to all my colleagues. I’d go out with people and do the things they liked doing, but I only pretended to. But I’m not great at that and pretending to be someone else ate me alive. Unsurprisingly, by 31, my anxiety and depression was not in a great place, and I fuckin’ snapped. Not just because of this stuff, of course, but it honestly contributed. I quit my job and left town.
Suddenly I was completely alone, no job, no friends, and no reason to pretend to be someone else. So, I started doing all the things I’d given up. I read all the fanfiction I wanted, I bought a Playstation and an SNES and played them for hours. I bought back every comic book I loved, watched every Marvel movie I missed, and caught up on my favorite characters. I started traveling around just going to cons for the first time (NYCC, GeekGirlCon, DragonCon, etc). In fact, at @geekgirlcon and DragonCon especially, I saw groups of women who were 60+, just fucking enjoying things, and it made me feel so much better about my future. I’m not even joking, I literally cry every time I think about it, because I never realized how scared I was about aging in a world that thinks I’m already a decade too old for the things I love. Suddenly, that wasn’t so scary.
And then I just stopped pretending that I wasn’t into this stuff. I mean all of it, even the stuff no one understand, even the stuff people openly make fun of, even smutty fanfiction.
And look, I’m not saying this cured my depression, or that everything is perfect. For one, I picked a city that’s awful for geeks and I’m trying to figure out where to move and how. For another, I lost six years of making like-minded friends, and it’s hard to find them now because we’re all so worried about being judged and online – the space that was always a refuge for me as a loner weirdo growing up – is now apparently a Children of the Corn. But I’m happier here, actually fucking liking things, than being the unobjectionable robot woman I’m apparently supposed to be.
I don’t expect anyone to actually be interested in this, or have gotten this far, but because I’m having feelings about turning 36 on Monday, I just want to tell anyone who is about to turn 25 that you should just tell people to go fuck themselves. It’s your life. You’re going to offend people no matter what you do, at least choose the direction that makes you happiest, because those people certainly aren’t going to pay for your fucking therapist bills, are they? 🦖
This is gonna sound weird to you guys, but when I first started writing fanfic and sending stories to fanzines to be published back in 1991, in my first fandom all of the fans and writers and editors and readers I met were shocked that I was 17 because they were all in their 30s, 40s, and 50s. I was the outlier. I was an aberration.
Wanna know when young people started discovering fandom en masse? In the mid 1990s, when AOL got their internet gateway.
All the folks who ran fannish mailing lists and conventions and published ‘zines and posted fanfic online were over 18, because email and IRC and Usenet and FTP sites and listservs were primarily used by adults because they were almost exclusively college students, government employees, and academics. And the users of gated communities like BBS, GEnie, Compuserv, and AOL all skewed older. Only Prodigy was actually aimed at kids, because prior to the mid-to-late 1990s, children weren’t getting online until they went to university.
And what kids found was the fandom that adults had built online, after being a part of it offline for decades.
Even when FFN was launched, the people who initially posted there were the same people who had been posting fanfic to the internet for a decade: THE GROWN-UPS.
So the idea that we’re meant to put away childish things is hilarious, cos for most of our lives, fandom was not a part of our childhoods. It was a part of our everyday adult lives.
taraljc:
fangirlunderground:
roxolotl:
Look i dont wanna sound like a Fandom Mom or whatever but what do you think women over 25 or so are supposed to do? Do u really think theyre supposed to drop all their interests and just talk about taxes and marriage or whatever? It seems like 25+ year old fanboys do not receive this kind of “ooh cringe” reaction either. There are guys in their 40s with comic book collections and shit and people might think theyre a nerd at worst, not a freak who shouldnt be trusted
Thank you. Because, here’s the thing, I literally tried that. And this sounds really dramatic but it kind of ruined my life for a long time.
Once I got out of grad-school and started working, at exactly age 25, I figured it was time to get serious because I was “too old for this stuff” and frankly I was afraid of being judged.
I sold all my comics, I stopped reading fanfiction, I stopped playing video games. All of it. It’s not that I never, ever watched anything “geeky” or spent a weekend binge-reading a kink-meme, but when I did, it was rare and I’d feel guilty about it like it was time wasted. I’d keep it all to myself, you know? And without any kind of inspiration, I eventually stopped drawing. After all, I didn’t need it for my “serious job,” so why bother? Unfortunately, my former skill is so atrophied now it’s nearly lost, but worse than that, it’s stressful now instead of the thing I loved to do for most of my life.
What was I doing instead? Well, I’d work my miserable, toxic job, come home and worry about how far behind everyone else I was, and how weird I was compared to all my colleagues. I’d go out with people and do the things they liked doing, but I only pretended to. But I’m not great at that and pretending to be someone else ate me alive. Unsurprisingly, by 31, my anxiety and depression was not in a great place, and I fuckin’ snapped. Not just because of this stuff, of course, but it honestly contributed. I quit my job and left town.
Suddenly I was completely alone, no job, no friends, and no reason to pretend to be someone else. So, I started doing all the things I’d given up. I read all the fanfiction I wanted, I bought a Playstation and an SNES and played them for hours. I bought back every comic book I loved, watched every Marvel movie I missed, and caught up on my favorite characters. I started traveling around just going to cons for the first time (NYCC, GeekGirlCon, DragonCon, etc). In fact, at @geekgirlcon and DragonCon especially, I saw groups of women who were 60+, just fucking enjoying things, and it made me feel so much better about my future. I’m not even joking, I literally cry every time I think about it, because I never realized how scared I was about aging in a world that thinks I’m already a decade too old for the things I love. Suddenly, that wasn’t so scary.
And then I just stopped pretending that I wasn’t into this stuff. I mean all of it, even the stuff no one understand, even the stuff people openly make fun of, even smutty fanfiction.
And look, I’m not saying this cured my depression, or that everything is perfect. For one, I picked a city that’s awful for geeks and I’m trying to figure out where to move and how. For another, I lost six years of making like-minded friends, and it’s hard to find them now because we’re all so worried about being judged and online – the space that was always a refuge for me as a loner weirdo growing up – is now apparently a Children of the Corn. But I’m happier here, actually fucking liking things, than being the unobjectionable robot woman I’m apparently supposed to be.
I don’t expect anyone to actually be interested in this, or have gotten this far, but because I’m having feelings about turning 36 on Monday, I just want to tell anyone who is about to turn 25 that you should just tell people to go fuck themselves. It’s your life. You’re going to offend people no matter what you do, at least choose the direction that makes you happiest, because those people certainly aren’t going to pay for your fucking therapist bills, are they? 🦖
This is gonna sound weird to you guys, but when I first started writing fanfic and sending stories to fanzines to be published back in 1991, in my first fandom all of the fans and writers and editors and readers I met were shocked that I was 17 because they were all in their 30s, 40s, and 50s. I was the outlier. I was an aberration.
Wanna know when young people started discovering fandom en masse? In the mid 1990s, when AOL got their internet gateway.
All the folks who ran fannish mailing lists and conventions and published ‘zines and posted fanfic online were over 18, because email and IRC and Usenet and FTP sites and listservs were primarily used by adults because they were almost exclusively college students, government employees, and academics. And the users of gated communities like BBS, GEnie, Compuserv, and AOL all skewed older. Only Prodigy was actually aimed at kids, because prior to the mid-to-late 1990s, children weren’t getting online until they went to university.
And what kids found was the fandom that adults had built online, after being a part of it offline for decades.
Even when FFN was launched, the people who initially posted there were the same people who had been posting fanfic to the internet for a decade: THE GROWN-UPS.
So the idea that we’re meant to put away childish things is hilarious, cos for most of our lives, fandom was not a part of our childhoods. It was a part of our everyday adult lives.
via https://ift.tt/2E6r0cM
Ten Numbers the Rich Would Like Fudged | Alternet:
theactualcluegirl:
broliloquy:
questionall:
1. Only THREE PERCENT of the very rich are entrepreneurs.
According to both Marketwatch and economist Edward Wolff, over 90 percent of the assets owned by millionaires are held in a combination of low-risk investments (bonds and cash), personal business accounts, the stock market, and real estate. Only 3.6 percent of taxpayers in the top .1% were classified as entrepreneurs based on 2004 tax returns. A 2009 Kauffman Foundation study found that the great majority of entrepreneurs come from middle-class backgrounds, with less than 1 percent of all entrepreneurs coming from very rich or very poor backgrounds.
2. Only FOUR OUT OF 150 countries have more wealth inequality than us.
In a world listing compiled by a reputable research team (which nevertheless prompted double-checking), the U.S. has greater wealth inequality than every measured country in the world except for Namibia, Zimbabwe, Denmark, and Switzerland.
3. An amount equal to ONE-HALF the GDP is held untaxed overseas by rich Americans.
The Tax Justice Network estimated that between $21 and $32 trillion is hidden offshore, untaxed. With Americans making up 40% of the world’s Ultra High Net Worth Individuals, that’s $8 to $12 trillion in U.S. money stashed in far-off hiding places.
Based on a historical stock market return of 6%, up to $750 billion of income is lost to the U.S. every year, resulting in a tax loss of about $260 billion.
4. Corporations stopped paying HALF OF THEIR TAXES after the recession.
After paying an average of 22.5% from 1987 to 2008, corporations have paid an annual rate of 10% since. This represents a sudden $250 billion annual loss in taxes.
U.S. corporations have shown a pattern of tax reluctance for more than 50 years, despite building their businesses with American research and infrastructure. They’ve passed the responsibility on to their workers. For every dollar of workers’ payroll tax paid in the 1950s, corporations paid three dollars. Now it’s 22 cents.
5. Just TEN Americans made a total of FIFTY BILLION DOLLARS in one year.
That’s enough to pay the salaries of over a million nurses or teachers or emergency responders.
That’s enough, according to 2008 estimates by the Food and Agriculture Organization and the UN’s World Food Program, to feed the 870 million people in the world who are lacking sufficient food.
For the free-market advocates who say “they’ve earned it”: Point #1 above makes it clear how the wealthy make their money.
6. Tax deductions for the rich could pay off 100 PERCENT of the deficit.
Another stat that required a double-check. Based on research by the Tax Policy Center, tax deferrals and deductions and other forms of tax expenditures (tax subsidies from special deductions, exemptions, exclusions, credits, capital gains, and loopholes), which largely benefit the rich, are worth about 7.4% of the GDP, or about $1.1 trillion.
Other sources have estimated that about two-thirds of the annual $850 billion in tax expenditures goes to the top quintile of taxpayers.
7. The average single black or Hispanic woman has about $100 IN NET WORTH.
The Insight Center for Community Economic Development reported that median wealth for black and Hispanic women is a little over $100. That’s much less than one percent of the median wealth for single white women ($41,500).
Other studies confirm the racially-charged economic inequality in our country. For every dollar of NON-HOME wealth owned by white families, people of color have only one cent.
8. Elderly and disabled food stamp recipients get $4.30 A DAY FOR FOOD.
Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) has dropped significantly over the past 15 years, serving only about a quarter of the families in poverty, and paying less than $400 per month for a family of three for housing and other necessities. Ninety percent of the available benefits go to the elderly, the disabled, or working households.
Food stamp recipients get $4.30 a day.
9. Young adults have lost TWO-THIRDS OF THEIR NET WORTH since 1984.
21- to 35-year-olds: Your median net worth has dropped 68% since 1984. It’s now less than $4,000.
That $4,000 has to pay for student loans that average $27,200. Or, if you’re still in school, for $12,700 in credit card debt.
With an unemployment rate for 16- to 24-year-olds of almost 50%, two out of every five recent college graduates are living with their parents. But your favorite company may be hiring. Apple, which makes a profit of $420,000 per employee, can pay you about $12 per hour.
10. The American public paid about FOUR TRILLION DOLLARS to bail out the banks.
That’s about the same amount of money made by America’s richest 10% in one year. But we all paid for the bailout. And because of it, we lost the opportunity for jobs, mortgage relief, and educational funding.
Bonus for the super-rich: A QUADRILLION DOLLARS in securities trading nets ZERO sales tax revenue for the U.S.
The world derivatives market is estimated to be worth over a quadrillion dollars (a thousand trillion). At least $200 trillion of that is in the United States. In 2011 the Chicago Mercantile Exchange reported a trading volume of over $1 quadrillion on 3.4 billion annual contracts.
A quadrillion dollars. A sales tax of ONE-TENTH OF A PENNY on a quadrillion dollars could pay off the deficit. But the total sales tax was ZERO.
It’s not surprising that the very rich would like to fudge the numbers, as they have the nation.
Guillotine
Firing squad is more efficient. Especially since guns are so fucking easy to get here…
Ten Numbers the Rich Would Like Fudged | Alternet:
theactualcluegirl:
broliloquy:
questionall:
1. Only THREE PERCENT of the very rich are entrepreneurs.
According to both Marketwatch and economist Edward Wolff, over 90 percent of the assets owned by millionaires are held in a combination of low-risk investments (bonds and cash), personal business accounts, the stock market, and real estate. Only 3.6 percent of taxpayers in the top .1% were classified as entrepreneurs based on 2004 tax returns. A 2009 Kauffman Foundation study found that the great majority of entrepreneurs come from middle-class backgrounds, with less than 1 percent of all entrepreneurs coming from very rich or very poor backgrounds.
2. Only FOUR OUT OF 150 countries have more wealth inequality than us.
In a world listing compiled by a reputable research team (which nevertheless prompted double-checking), the U.S. has greater wealth inequality than every measured country in the world except for Namibia, Zimbabwe, Denmark, and Switzerland.
3. An amount equal to ONE-HALF the GDP is held untaxed overseas by rich Americans.
The Tax Justice Network estimated that between $21 and $32 trillion is hidden offshore, untaxed. With Americans making up 40% of the world’s Ultra High Net Worth Individuals, that’s $8 to $12 trillion in U.S. money stashed in far-off hiding places.
Based on a historical stock market return of 6%, up to $750 billion of income is lost to the U.S. every year, resulting in a tax loss of about $260 billion.
4. Corporations stopped paying HALF OF THEIR TAXES after the recession.
After paying an average of 22.5% from 1987 to 2008, corporations have paid an annual rate of 10% since. This represents a sudden $250 billion annual loss in taxes.
U.S. corporations have shown a pattern of tax reluctance for more than 50 years, despite building their businesses with American research and infrastructure. They’ve passed the responsibility on to their workers. For every dollar of workers’ payroll tax paid in the 1950s, corporations paid three dollars. Now it’s 22 cents.
5. Just TEN Americans made a total of FIFTY BILLION DOLLARS in one year.
That’s enough to pay the salaries of over a million nurses or teachers or emergency responders.
That’s enough, according to 2008 estimates by the Food and Agriculture Organization and the UN’s World Food Program, to feed the 870 million people in the world who are lacking sufficient food.
For the free-market advocates who say “they’ve earned it”: Point #1 above makes it clear how the wealthy make their money.
6. Tax deductions for the rich could pay off 100 PERCENT of the deficit.
Another stat that required a double-check. Based on research by the Tax Policy Center, tax deferrals and deductions and other forms of tax expenditures (tax subsidies from special deductions, exemptions, exclusions, credits, capital gains, and loopholes), which largely benefit the rich, are worth about 7.4% of the GDP, or about $1.1 trillion.
Other sources have estimated that about two-thirds of the annual $850 billion in tax expenditures goes to the top quintile of taxpayers.
7. The average single black or Hispanic woman has about $100 IN NET WORTH.
The Insight Center for Community Economic Development reported that median wealth for black and Hispanic women is a little over $100. That’s much less than one percent of the median wealth for single white women ($41,500).
Other studies confirm the racially-charged economic inequality in our country. For every dollar of NON-HOME wealth owned by white families, people of color have only one cent.
8. Elderly and disabled food stamp recipients get $4.30 A DAY FOR FOOD.
Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) has dropped significantly over the past 15 years, serving only about a quarter of the families in poverty, and paying less than $400 per month for a family of three for housing and other necessities. Ninety percent of the available benefits go to the elderly, the disabled, or working households.
Food stamp recipients get $4.30 a day.
9. Young adults have lost TWO-THIRDS OF THEIR NET WORTH since 1984.
21- to 35-year-olds: Your median net worth has dropped 68% since 1984. It’s now less than $4,000.
That $4,000 has to pay for student loans that average $27,200. Or, if you’re still in school, for $12,700 in credit card debt.
With an unemployment rate for 16- to 24-year-olds of almost 50%, two out of every five recent college graduates are living with their parents. But your favorite company may be hiring. Apple, which makes a profit of $420,000 per employee, can pay you about $12 per hour.
10. The American public paid about FOUR TRILLION DOLLARS to bail out the banks.
That’s about the same amount of money made by America’s richest 10% in one year. But we all paid for the bailout. And because of it, we lost the opportunity for jobs, mortgage relief, and educational funding.
Bonus for the super-rich: A QUADRILLION DOLLARS in securities trading nets ZERO sales tax revenue for the U.S.
The world derivatives market is estimated to be worth over a quadrillion dollars (a thousand trillion). At least $200 trillion of that is in the United States. In 2011 the Chicago Mercantile Exchange reported a trading volume of over $1 quadrillion on 3.4 billion annual contracts.
A quadrillion dollars. A sales tax of ONE-TENTH OF A PENNY on a quadrillion dollars could pay off the deficit. But the total sales tax was ZERO.
It’s not surprising that the very rich would like to fudge the numbers, as they have the nation.
Guillotine
Firing squad is more efficient. Especially since guns are so fucking easy to get here…
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copperbadge:
kyraneko:
porcelaincloud:
trashfirefallon:
out-there-on-the-maroon:
vstheworld:
prokopetz:
People keep asking who would do all the menial jobs if they didn’t have the threat of starvation hanging over their heads, but in my experience there are plenty of people who would be overjoyed to spend all day running minor errands for folks if they were allowed to tell the rude ones to fuck off.
If money wasn’t a problem, I actually enjoy the physical labor of my job and the sense of fulfillment at having something concrete I can look at and accomplish—it’s the being treated like a vending machine/punching bag while also making barely liveable wages that make the whole thing suck, not the work itself
I really enjoyed the tetris like feel of bagging groceries and stocking shelves for years. What wore me down was the inconsistent hours, bad pay, poor treatment of workers overall (they treated the elderly employees especially horribly) and nasty customers who I couldn’t tell off.
For more pay, and more protection, I’d have happily stayed for a while longer.
I absolutely LOVE working early hours making coffee and tea and donuts and all that. I would fucking show up at 4am in the morning to work in a coffee shop that doesn’t have a manager constantly screaming at how long the line is and how many sales we need to make in an hour to reach our quota.
Like, I just really enjoy making food and mornings and people.
Yeah tbh I really like selling phones and helping people understand their technology, I love helping people in general, if malwart wasn’t such a hell hole it’d be perfect
“But who would do all the menial jobs if we didn’t threaten people with starvation?”
Have you considered making them not menial?
1.(of work) not requiring much skill and lacking prestige.“menial factory jobs"synonyms:unskilled, lowly, humble, low-status, inferior, degrading;
The degradation of these jobs and the workers who do them is artificial and deliberate, made to justify the low wages and help reinforce the system that keeps people doing them despite said degradation.
It is entirely possible to create workspaces where the people who do these jobs are treated well, valued, allowed comfort and boundaries. This is a thing we can do.
I loved being the front-desk receptionist for my company. I had lots of time to read and write. I wrote and published a novel a year as a receptionist; since leaving that job I’ve written three and published one in seven years. I enjoyed making sure everyone got the help they needed, and I even liked taking phone calls. I liked being in a union job. I was good at it and everyone in the company knew me and knew I could help them if they had a problem.
I just couldn’t live long-term on what they were paying me, especially since without the union-mandated cost of living raises I would never get a raise at all. If I earned then what I’m earning now, with the merit raises I now get, I never would have left it.
copperbadge:
kyraneko:
porcelaincloud:
trashfirefallon:
out-there-on-the-maroon:
vstheworld:
prokopetz:
People keep asking who would do all the menial jobs if they didn’t have the threat of starvation hanging over their heads, but in my experience there are plenty of people who would be overjoyed to spend all day running minor errands for folks if they were allowed to tell the rude ones to fuck off.
If money wasn’t a problem, I actually enjoy the physical labor of my job and the sense of fulfillment at having something concrete I can look at and accomplish—it’s the being treated like a vending machine/punching bag while also making barely liveable wages that make the whole thing suck, not the work itself
I really enjoyed the tetris like feel of bagging groceries and stocking shelves for years. What wore me down was the inconsistent hours, bad pay, poor treatment of workers overall (they treated the elderly employees especially horribly) and nasty customers who I couldn’t tell off.
For more pay, and more protection, I’d have happily stayed for a while longer.
I absolutely LOVE working early hours making coffee and tea and donuts and all that. I would fucking show up at 4am in the morning to work in a coffee shop that doesn’t have a manager constantly screaming at how long the line is and how many sales we need to make in an hour to reach our quota.
Like, I just really enjoy making food and mornings and people.
Yeah tbh I really like selling phones and helping people understand their technology, I love helping people in general, if malwart wasn’t such a hell hole it’d be perfect
“But who would do all the menial jobs if we didn’t threaten people with starvation?”
Have you considered making them not menial?
1.(of work) not requiring much skill and lacking prestige.“menial factory jobs"synonyms:unskilled, lowly, humble, low-status, inferior, degrading;
The degradation of these jobs and the workers who do them is artificial and deliberate, made to justify the low wages and help reinforce the system that keeps people doing them despite said degradation.
It is entirely possible to create workspaces where the people who do these jobs are treated well, valued, allowed comfort and boundaries. This is a thing we can do.
I loved being the front-desk receptionist for my company. I had lots of time to read and write. I wrote and published a novel a year as a receptionist; since leaving that job I’ve written three and published one in seven years. I enjoyed making sure everyone got the help they needed, and I even liked taking phone calls. I liked being in a union job. I was good at it and everyone in the company knew me and knew I could help them if they had a problem.
I just couldn’t live long-term on what they were paying me, especially since without the union-mandated cost of living raises I would never get a raise at all. If I earned then what I’m earning now, with the merit raises I now get, I never would have left it.
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1st baby born using uterus transplanted from deceased donor:
theactualcluegirl:
You hear that, all you “pro life” men? Time’s coming up where you’re gonna have to X up, put your donated womb where your mouth is, and carry your sons yourselves!
1st baby born using uterus transplanted from deceased donor:
theactualcluegirl:
You hear that, all you “pro life” men? Time’s coming up where you’re gonna have to X up, put your donated womb where your mouth is, and carry your sons yourselves!
samanthadoodles: #Inktober #Inktober2018
Dec. 7th, 2018 07:40 amvia https://ift.tt/2Ei6G9s
samanthadoodles:
#Inktober #Inktober2018 ⚡️No. 28⚡️Three more to go.. #Xmen #Storm
samanthadoodles:
#Inktober #Inktober2018 ⚡️No. 28⚡️Three more to go.. #Xmen #Storm
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copperbadge:
redpaperowl:
accessiblecoldtimes:
[video: a seal emerges from a hole in the ice to breathe. It yells “Ah! Woo!” then sinks back down]
The ahh was so much deeper and the woo so much softer than i could have expected i love it
Me too, buddy, me too.
copperbadge:
redpaperowl:
accessiblecoldtimes:
[video: a seal emerges from a hole in the ice to breathe. It yells “Ah! Woo!” then sinks back down]
The ahh was so much deeper and the woo so much softer than i could have expected i love it
Me too, buddy, me too.
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bellamynochillblake:
im-reddie:
bellamynochillblake:
we’re going to have to call smut ‘lemons’ again, aren’t we?
LEMONS!? WHEN THE FUCK WAS THIS?!
oh you sweet summer child
bellamynochillblake:
im-reddie:
bellamynochillblake:
we’re going to have to call smut ‘lemons’ again, aren’t we?
LEMONS!? WHEN THE FUCK WAS THIS?!
oh you sweet summer child
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bepis-boii:
Article 13 is going into it’s final stages of voting.
If this gets through, it will allow many, many companies to abuse and misuse this article to take down as many memes, fan works, and even other independent creators on sites like YouTube, Facebook, and other websites INCLUDING Tumblr.
THE FAIR USE LAW AND SAFEHARBOR LAW WILL NO LONGER APPLY IN THE U.S OR IN OTHER COUNTRIES.
IT HAS ALREADY PASSED IN SEVERAL OTHER COUNTRIES.
WE CANNOT ALLOW THEM TO TAKE AWAY WHAT WE BUILT FOR THE INTERNET SO FAR.
So here is what you need to do to drag this article down.
1. Spread the word
I can’t stress this enough. The more attention this gets the more people we can get to take this down.
2. Make your own content
Make your own content on the matter and make sure it is clear to others that Article 13 is bad for every internet user involved.
3. If you live anywhere in Europe, contact your MEPs
Ask them if they approve of the article and why. If they do approve of it, try to convince them in a clear, reasonable, and most sensible way possible that this law is BAD.
The article itself is way to vague about what it’s conveying to its people.
Saying that as long as the use of said internet memes or content is good as long as it’s in “good faith.”
We cannot let some shoddy government tell us what we can and cannot post.
FREE SPEECH IS A HUMAN RIGHT. NOT A PRIVILEGE.
Here’s a video on Article 13 that Film Theory made on the matter. It will explain things better than I can.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GbXHrj8k7dg
Edit: I’ve noticed that some people are having trouble with getting the video to work. So here is the new link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbXHrj8k7dg&app=desktop
Plus thanks to user @rwby- 13 for giving me a link to this Change.org petition!
https://www.change.org/p/european-parliament-stop-the-censorship-machinery-save-the-internet
bepis-boii:
Article 13 is going into it’s final stages of voting.
If this gets through, it will allow many, many companies to abuse and misuse this article to take down as many memes, fan works, and even other independent creators on sites like YouTube, Facebook, and other websites INCLUDING Tumblr.
THE FAIR USE LAW AND SAFEHARBOR LAW WILL NO LONGER APPLY IN THE U.S OR IN OTHER COUNTRIES.
IT HAS ALREADY PASSED IN SEVERAL OTHER COUNTRIES.
WE CANNOT ALLOW THEM TO TAKE AWAY WHAT WE BUILT FOR THE INTERNET SO FAR.
So here is what you need to do to drag this article down.
1. Spread the word
I can’t stress this enough. The more attention this gets the more people we can get to take this down.
2. Make your own content
Make your own content on the matter and make sure it is clear to others that Article 13 is bad for every internet user involved.
3. If you live anywhere in Europe, contact your MEPs
Ask them if they approve of the article and why. If they do approve of it, try to convince them in a clear, reasonable, and most sensible way possible that this law is BAD.
The article itself is way to vague about what it’s conveying to its people.
Saying that as long as the use of said internet memes or content is good as long as it’s in “good faith.”
We cannot let some shoddy government tell us what we can and cannot post.
FREE SPEECH IS A HUMAN RIGHT. NOT A PRIVILEGE.
Here’s a video on Article 13 that Film Theory made on the matter. It will explain things better than I can.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GbXHrj8k7dg
Edit: I’ve noticed that some people are having trouble with getting the video to work. So here is the new link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbXHrj8k7dg&app=desktop
Plus thanks to user @rwby- 13 for giving me a link to this Change.org petition!
https://www.change.org/p/european-parliament-stop-the-censorship-machinery-save-the-internet
via https://ift.tt/2RGx2oC
jetpackexhaust:
The Malcom Fallacy
Dr Malcolm perfectly captured the problem with too much moralizing sci-fi when he whined “your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”Because of course they should! “Should we recreate awesome dinosaurs*?” The answer is obviously yes, utterly yes, that’s the positive control case to test absolute YESness. You don’t ask people that question to find the answer, you already know the answer, you ask people that question to find out if they’re worth talking to.
*a scaled pseudospecies distinct from feathered “actual dinosaurs”.
The real problem is the wrong people asking the wrong questions, then blaming science for delivering overwhelming experimental evidence of their mistakes. Jurassic Park’s key question wasn’t “Should we recreate awesome dinosaurs?”, it was “Should we unleash those awesome dinosaurs on a safari with worse security and fewer staff than the average Apple store?” No, you shouldn’t have done that. The science spectacularly succeeded in delivering a dinosaur miracle, and then specifically didn’t knock them out of the Park because that tourism screw-up’s entirely on capitalism. No scientist was collecting data for “Quantifying how much money we can make from tourism” or “Material testing the flimsiest fences imaginable with a goddamn Tyrannosaurus Rex”.
That’s the Malcolm Fallacy: blaming science for everyone else’s mistakes. You’ll see it in almost every techno-horror.
Should we invent AI? Yes! Should we connect it to military mainframes with nuclear launch authority? No!
Should we research viruses? Yes! Should we override the security computer and physically crack open sealed airtight doors when viral labs go into lockdown? No!
Should we research teleportation? Yes! Should we experiment on ourselves, alone, without even the most elementary laboratory (or even pizza parlor) standards of cleanliness? No!
Almost every sci-fi horror plot is driven by money-grubbing corporations but it’s the researchers who can’t even afford a change of clothes from their “I’m a scientist!” lab coats who take the blame. And now we have hordes of idiots destroying cropfields and resurrecting defeated diseases while CEOs gold-plate profit reports on basic medicine.
This and more at ZERO POINT COMEDY
jetpackexhaust:
The Malcom Fallacy
Dr Malcolm perfectly captured the problem with too much moralizing sci-fi when he whined “your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”Because of course they should! “Should we recreate awesome dinosaurs*?” The answer is obviously yes, utterly yes, that’s the positive control case to test absolute YESness. You don’t ask people that question to find the answer, you already know the answer, you ask people that question to find out if they’re worth talking to.
*a scaled pseudospecies distinct from feathered “actual dinosaurs”.
The real problem is the wrong people asking the wrong questions, then blaming science for delivering overwhelming experimental evidence of their mistakes. Jurassic Park’s key question wasn’t “Should we recreate awesome dinosaurs?”, it was “Should we unleash those awesome dinosaurs on a safari with worse security and fewer staff than the average Apple store?” No, you shouldn’t have done that. The science spectacularly succeeded in delivering a dinosaur miracle, and then specifically didn’t knock them out of the Park because that tourism screw-up’s entirely on capitalism. No scientist was collecting data for “Quantifying how much money we can make from tourism” or “Material testing the flimsiest fences imaginable with a goddamn Tyrannosaurus Rex”.
That’s the Malcolm Fallacy: blaming science for everyone else’s mistakes. You’ll see it in almost every techno-horror.
Should we invent AI? Yes! Should we connect it to military mainframes with nuclear launch authority? No!
Should we research viruses? Yes! Should we override the security computer and physically crack open sealed airtight doors when viral labs go into lockdown? No!
Should we research teleportation? Yes! Should we experiment on ourselves, alone, without even the most elementary laboratory (or even pizza parlor) standards of cleanliness? No!
Almost every sci-fi horror plot is driven by money-grubbing corporations but it’s the researchers who can’t even afford a change of clothes from their “I’m a scientist!” lab coats who take the blame. And now we have hordes of idiots destroying cropfields and resurrecting defeated diseases while CEOs gold-plate profit reports on basic medicine.
This and more at ZERO POINT COMEDY
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findingasgard:
bigskydreaming:
Like the thing about Loki in Norse mythology is there’s like 8000 myths about Loki just being chaotically mischievous and the other gods are like lol oh that scamp, no matter how disastrous his schemes are, their reaction is still pretty much always ‘haha oh that’s just Loki.’
EXCEPT for basically….one myth. Where Loki’s instrumental in the death of Baldur and the gods are all WHOA TOO FUCKING FAR DUDE and send him to Hel to be tormented for all eternity, leading to his ultimate escape/release in Ragnarok to end all things and lead the army of the damned and his monstrous children to pretty much…eat all the gods, destroy Asgard, and burn the World Tree all to the ground so it can all start over.
Here’s the thing though. Norse mythology spanned centuries. The tales of Loki as the mischievous trickster god were told for centuries.
However, for most of that time, the myths were told as part of oral traditions passed down generation to generation, until they were finally compiled in manuscript form in the 13th century, roughly. This is when pretty much all the sagas, as Norse myth compilations were called, are considered to have been written down for the first time, and so they included thousands of stories that had been told over hundreds of years.
They were also regional, though there was a lot of overlap, given that the Vikings traveled widely and regularly across the various parts of Scandinavia. Still, different parts of Scandinavia had their own sagas. Norway had different sagas than Denmark who had different sagas than Iceland, etc. Even though all of them featured primarily the same figures, they each had their own unique stories featuring the gods. However, very rarely did they have radically different takes on those gods.
Now what’s significant about the fact that pretty much every saga we have, where these myths were all finally written down and preserved, is from the 13th century….
Is that pretty much all of Scandinavia had converted to Christianity by the early 12th century, with active worship of the Norse gods being scattered and mostly underground from that point on.
Why is this significant?
Because it means every Norse myth we have a written recording of was not written by people who still actively worshiped those gods. Nor were they intended to be read as such at the time.
They were written down by Christian scholars who wrote them AS stories. They were intended as collections of their regions’ cultural histories, but not by or for people who still actively believed in these stories or the figures they featured. They weren’t like….TRYING to be super accurate, is the thing. The scholars who wrote these sagas were writing down the stories that had been passed down for generations, but through the lens of people who saw them as stories their ancestors once believed, not ones that pertained to their own current worldview.
And they were writing these sagas for an audience of people who similarly believed as they believed.
Which means that inevitably, some things got ‘adjusted’ to fit the current world view, the zeitgeist of the scholars writing down the stories and that of the people who would read or have the stories read to them from thereon. Because again, they weren’t aiming for being 100% faithful to the tales as they’d been told to them. They were just treating them as stories. And what do you do when the story you’re writing down has elements that don’t make that much sense to you because they were born of and aimed a worldview that doesn’t match yours?
Well, if you’re the Christian scholars writing the Norse sagas, you ‘tweak’ those elements until they make a story that fits your worldview.
So remember how I said the various sagas were regional and had a lot of overlap but some stories were distinct to some regions and didn’t show up elsewhere?
Yeah, Ragnarok is one of those.
Thousands of sagas encompassing centuries of Norse mythology and oral traditions were written down all over the various regions of Scandinavia in the 13th century.
Ragnarok only showed up in one.
The most famous, granted, but still. Everything we’re told in Norse myths about the death of Baldur and Loki’s role in it, leading to his punishment and torment in Hel and his ultimate release and bringing forth the armies of Hel to slay the gods and end the world?
Comes from the Prose Edda and the later Poetic Edda, from Iceland.
Which had primarily converted to Christianity as far back as 1000.
Now, the Vikings? Were actually surprisingly not a big doom and gloom people. Pretty much every assumption of them as such comes from how synonymous we regard Ragnarok with their culture.
It is after all, the ultimate Judgment Day myth, isn’t it? Right up there with Christianity’s Book of Revelations. An apocalyptic end of the world scenario, a war between heaven and hell, where everything is destroyed so that the world can basically start fresh with a clean slate. Nothing old ‘deserves’ to survive, pretty much the only way for a world free of sin and evil to arise is from the ashes of the old, after everything has been cleansed with fire.
Now contrast this ‘myth’ with pretty much every other Norse myth that’s survived. Larger than life tales of grand adventures, noble quests, gods walking among mortals in disguise and heroes fighting giants and stealing from dragons.
Where the closest thing the Norse pantheon has to a devil figure is Loki, the god of mischief….not even evil, but MISCHIEF, because a far more accurate representation of the Vikings’ world view is that sometimes shit happens, because Loki the god of chaos likes to make a mess of things. And what do you do when that happens? If you’re the Vikings, you basically just shrug, go “well, that’s Loki” for you, and drink some more mead.
Loki isn’t vilified in a single myth until Ragnarok, because the Vikings didn’t hate him. And they certainly didn’t fear him. They LAUGHED at him. In nine out of ten myths, Loki ends up the subject of ridicule himself, as he has the tables turned on him or outsmarts himself
Until Ragnarok.
Which, granted, could very well be another Norse myth that was passed down generation to generation in Iceland, land of frequent volcanic eruptions and likely inspiration for Musplheim, the land of the fire giants.
BUT. Which could equally likely, and far more plausibly given the overall context of Norse mythology, simply be a story the scholar who wrote the Prose Edda made up to ‘finish off’ his saga of the world according to the Vikings, from beginning to end.
An ending his Christian audience of the times would understand and identify with a lot better than they would understand the concept of a devil-figure that existed to be LAUGHED at, to show how little the Vikings feared some mythical figure with the power to lie and deceive them….the complete opposite of the way Christians feared Satan.
Basically put….Ragnarok, for all that we think of it as the ultimate Norse myth….DOES NOT MAKE SENSE in the context of almost EVERY single other Norse myth AND in the context of how Norse society viewed the world and their place in it, or their gods and their relationship with them.
Same with Loki’s depiction in Ragnarok.
What both Ragnarok and Loki’s role in Ragnarok DO make sense in the context of, however, is in a bastardization of Christianity’s own doomsday tales of a Judgment Day, stylized to fit the trappings of Norse mythology and feature their gods instead of Christian figures.
With Loki recast in the role of the Devil, as he was the closest fit they could find to that.
And with Baldur, god of light (a Norse god who is at best a footnote in Norse myths other than Ragnarok, and certainly was never the major pantheon figure he’s assumed to be), recast in the role of the Christ figure. Whose death starts the ball rolling for Judgment Day and who is destined to return for it, to triumph over Loki/Satan and preside over the new, purified world once it’s reborn from the ashes of the old one.
Anyway, tl;dr, don’t believe the hype, Ragnarok’s probably not even an actual Norse myth but the invention of Christian writers who were like lol this would make for a great Book of Revelations fanfic AU, and Loki was almost certainly never regarded by actual Vikings as some evil, malicious world-destroyer who would lead armies of the dead at Armageddon whoops I mean Ragnarok.
tl;dr of the tl;dr Loki’s not actually evil and more on how Christians bastardize things.
findingasgard:
bigskydreaming:
Like the thing about Loki in Norse mythology is there’s like 8000 myths about Loki just being chaotically mischievous and the other gods are like lol oh that scamp, no matter how disastrous his schemes are, their reaction is still pretty much always ‘haha oh that’s just Loki.’
EXCEPT for basically….one myth. Where Loki’s instrumental in the death of Baldur and the gods are all WHOA TOO FUCKING FAR DUDE and send him to Hel to be tormented for all eternity, leading to his ultimate escape/release in Ragnarok to end all things and lead the army of the damned and his monstrous children to pretty much…eat all the gods, destroy Asgard, and burn the World Tree all to the ground so it can all start over.
Here’s the thing though. Norse mythology spanned centuries. The tales of Loki as the mischievous trickster god were told for centuries.
However, for most of that time, the myths were told as part of oral traditions passed down generation to generation, until they were finally compiled in manuscript form in the 13th century, roughly. This is when pretty much all the sagas, as Norse myth compilations were called, are considered to have been written down for the first time, and so they included thousands of stories that had been told over hundreds of years.
They were also regional, though there was a lot of overlap, given that the Vikings traveled widely and regularly across the various parts of Scandinavia. Still, different parts of Scandinavia had their own sagas. Norway had different sagas than Denmark who had different sagas than Iceland, etc. Even though all of them featured primarily the same figures, they each had their own unique stories featuring the gods. However, very rarely did they have radically different takes on those gods.
Now what’s significant about the fact that pretty much every saga we have, where these myths were all finally written down and preserved, is from the 13th century….
Is that pretty much all of Scandinavia had converted to Christianity by the early 12th century, with active worship of the Norse gods being scattered and mostly underground from that point on.
Why is this significant?
Because it means every Norse myth we have a written recording of was not written by people who still actively worshiped those gods. Nor were they intended to be read as such at the time.
They were written down by Christian scholars who wrote them AS stories. They were intended as collections of their regions’ cultural histories, but not by or for people who still actively believed in these stories or the figures they featured. They weren’t like….TRYING to be super accurate, is the thing. The scholars who wrote these sagas were writing down the stories that had been passed down for generations, but through the lens of people who saw them as stories their ancestors once believed, not ones that pertained to their own current worldview.
And they were writing these sagas for an audience of people who similarly believed as they believed.
Which means that inevitably, some things got ‘adjusted’ to fit the current world view, the zeitgeist of the scholars writing down the stories and that of the people who would read or have the stories read to them from thereon. Because again, they weren’t aiming for being 100% faithful to the tales as they’d been told to them. They were just treating them as stories. And what do you do when the story you’re writing down has elements that don’t make that much sense to you because they were born of and aimed a worldview that doesn’t match yours?
Well, if you’re the Christian scholars writing the Norse sagas, you ‘tweak’ those elements until they make a story that fits your worldview.
So remember how I said the various sagas were regional and had a lot of overlap but some stories were distinct to some regions and didn’t show up elsewhere?
Yeah, Ragnarok is one of those.
Thousands of sagas encompassing centuries of Norse mythology and oral traditions were written down all over the various regions of Scandinavia in the 13th century.
Ragnarok only showed up in one.
The most famous, granted, but still. Everything we’re told in Norse myths about the death of Baldur and Loki’s role in it, leading to his punishment and torment in Hel and his ultimate release and bringing forth the armies of Hel to slay the gods and end the world?
Comes from the Prose Edda and the later Poetic Edda, from Iceland.
Which had primarily converted to Christianity as far back as 1000.
Now, the Vikings? Were actually surprisingly not a big doom and gloom people. Pretty much every assumption of them as such comes from how synonymous we regard Ragnarok with their culture.
It is after all, the ultimate Judgment Day myth, isn’t it? Right up there with Christianity’s Book of Revelations. An apocalyptic end of the world scenario, a war between heaven and hell, where everything is destroyed so that the world can basically start fresh with a clean slate. Nothing old ‘deserves’ to survive, pretty much the only way for a world free of sin and evil to arise is from the ashes of the old, after everything has been cleansed with fire.
Now contrast this ‘myth’ with pretty much every other Norse myth that’s survived. Larger than life tales of grand adventures, noble quests, gods walking among mortals in disguise and heroes fighting giants and stealing from dragons.
Where the closest thing the Norse pantheon has to a devil figure is Loki, the god of mischief….not even evil, but MISCHIEF, because a far more accurate representation of the Vikings’ world view is that sometimes shit happens, because Loki the god of chaos likes to make a mess of things. And what do you do when that happens? If you’re the Vikings, you basically just shrug, go “well, that’s Loki” for you, and drink some more mead.
Loki isn’t vilified in a single myth until Ragnarok, because the Vikings didn’t hate him. And they certainly didn’t fear him. They LAUGHED at him. In nine out of ten myths, Loki ends up the subject of ridicule himself, as he has the tables turned on him or outsmarts himself
Until Ragnarok.
Which, granted, could very well be another Norse myth that was passed down generation to generation in Iceland, land of frequent volcanic eruptions and likely inspiration for Musplheim, the land of the fire giants.
BUT. Which could equally likely, and far more plausibly given the overall context of Norse mythology, simply be a story the scholar who wrote the Prose Edda made up to ‘finish off’ his saga of the world according to the Vikings, from beginning to end.
An ending his Christian audience of the times would understand and identify with a lot better than they would understand the concept of a devil-figure that existed to be LAUGHED at, to show how little the Vikings feared some mythical figure with the power to lie and deceive them….the complete opposite of the way Christians feared Satan.
Basically put….Ragnarok, for all that we think of it as the ultimate Norse myth….DOES NOT MAKE SENSE in the context of almost EVERY single other Norse myth AND in the context of how Norse society viewed the world and their place in it, or their gods and their relationship with them.
Same with Loki’s depiction in Ragnarok.
What both Ragnarok and Loki’s role in Ragnarok DO make sense in the context of, however, is in a bastardization of Christianity’s own doomsday tales of a Judgment Day, stylized to fit the trappings of Norse mythology and feature their gods instead of Christian figures.
With Loki recast in the role of the Devil, as he was the closest fit they could find to that.
And with Baldur, god of light (a Norse god who is at best a footnote in Norse myths other than Ragnarok, and certainly was never the major pantheon figure he’s assumed to be), recast in the role of the Christ figure. Whose death starts the ball rolling for Judgment Day and who is destined to return for it, to triumph over Loki/Satan and preside over the new, purified world once it’s reborn from the ashes of the old one.
Anyway, tl;dr, don’t believe the hype, Ragnarok’s probably not even an actual Norse myth but the invention of Christian writers who were like lol this would make for a great Book of Revelations fanfic AU, and Loki was almost certainly never regarded by actual Vikings as some evil, malicious world-destroyer who would lead armies of the dead at Armageddon whoops I mean Ragnarok.
tl;dr of the tl;dr Loki’s not actually evil and more on how Christians bastardize things.
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1uped-blog:
justchubbycats:
workhard3r:
justchubbycats:
Reblog this fat happy boy for a good night sleep tonight
Nothing bad happens if you don’t! Just a cute good luck charm
He brings no harm, only good fortune and good dreams
Reblog for a friend
1uped-blog:
justchubbycats:
workhard3r:
justchubbycats:
Reblog this fat happy boy for a good night sleep tonight
Nothing bad happens if you don’t! Just a cute good luck charm
He brings no harm, only good fortune and good dreams
Reblog for a friend
via https://ift.tt/2RF3R5b
airyairyquitecontrary:
nudityandnerdery:
zornsable:
reversingyourpolarity:
elidyce:
seananmcguire:
priscellie:
ecnamor-lacimehc-ym:
gallifrey-feels:
sociopathic-italian-grandmas:
millshouse:
meganiun:
happyvegetable:
kennilworthy-thisp:
derinthemadscientist:
lumoslouis:
soloontherocks:
amour-vengeance:
later-homenuggets:
my friend left her window open in her bedroom and came back to find this
look at his self-satisfied little face, the cheeky shit
motherfucking australia
if there was a post to describe australia, this is it
wait.
you mean to tell me this isn’t even a pet bird?
that in australia, you have wild birds that just fly from house to house with the express purpose of fucking shit up?
fucking HELL australia, what is wrong with you?
wake up australia
That’s what birds do
They fly around and fuck shit up
Do you have some kind of mysterious nice birds in your weird foreign country
Do birds in America and England fly into your house and make the bed and tidy up the living room a little bit
It’s cold here, so they just bounce off the windows and lie there and twitch spasmodically while you look for the shovel.
Basically hurling themselves at windows is the worst thing birds do
yeah man a kookaburra literally flew into a classroom at my high school and just sat his smug ass down on top of the desk for a good 20 minutes
why has nobody mentioned the fact that in australia there are 3-4 months a year where everybody just accepts that they’re going to get attacked by magpies. It is literally called “swooping season” and these birds will fly down to peck your fucking face, and people get their eyes ripped out and shit, it’s fucking brutal.
My teacher had to go to hospital and have surgery because of swooping season. It was in the parking lot of school and all the kids would do a mad dash towards the car as the magpies tried to kill us.
no but when you’re 12 years old and riding your bike like mad on the way home from school with an icecream bucket on your head with like branches and shit sticking out if it to scare them off and none of this is considered strange
what the actual fuck australia
I am pretty sure all of these Australia stories are a massive, globally-spanning trolling effort, and only the people who have visited the country are allowed to be in on the joke.
Nope.
Went there.
Parrots tried to take our car.
Came home IN A FUCKING HURRY.
Interesting thing about magpies - they’re not great at identifying individual humans visually, but if you make yourself identifiable in some way they’re usually open to reason. We used to have some very aggressive swoopers in our back yard - as soon as they realised that the humans *inside* the fence never bothered them and were the source of the delicious compost heap, they turned into flying black and white guard dogs who would viciously assault any passing stranger but never bothered anyone inside the yard. Several times they swooped at us when we approached from outside, then when we walked into the yard they would pull up and act incredibly apologetic like sorry ma’am I had no idea it was you I would never please don’t stop stocking the food pile.
There was another little group of magpies in the park who would attack any solo pedestrian but never bothered anyone walking a dog or pushing a pram, because apparently those were identifiable traits indicating a non-threatening human. In the spirit of inquiry, I started going out of my way to be polite to the magpies - carefully walking a wide arc around them when they were on the ground, etc - and emitting an identifiable call of ‘hello birdie’ before swooping season started.
I spent the next ten years crossing that park at least once a day and as long as I turned at the first flutter of wings and said ‘hello birdie’ to the magpie waiting to attack as soon as my back was turned, I was fine. Every time, the magpie would stare at me for a minute and then fly off to harass some other pedestrian because apparently the magpies and I, we were cool.
Parrots are a lot less open to negotiation, and the little bastards travel in flocks. Beware the parrots.
Australia: the only country where it is necessary to sign a peace treaty with the birds in order to stay unmangled.
They did lose the Emu War, after all.
Look.
I’ve read a lot of @seananmcguire‘s stories, both her novels and the things she’s done in real life. She’s got a pretty delightful attitude of open curiosity when it comes to a lot of weird and possibly dangerous things in nature that would put off many.
If birds in Australia drove her back to the relative safety of North America? That’s scary.
I’m not high enough level to deal with Australia, I think.
In New Zealand we have parrots that will rip the rubber door seals, windscreen wipers and hubcaps off your car. Our nature is generally a lot less rip-roaring insane than Australian nature but we do have that.
Evidence: Douchebag Parrot Decides To Destroy A Man’s Rental Car
airyairyquitecontrary:
nudityandnerdery:
zornsable:
reversingyourpolarity:
elidyce:
seananmcguire:
priscellie:
ecnamor-lacimehc-ym:
gallifrey-feels:
sociopathic-italian-grandmas:
millshouse:
meganiun:
happyvegetable:
kennilworthy-thisp:
derinthemadscientist:
lumoslouis:
soloontherocks:
amour-vengeance:
later-homenuggets:
my friend left her window open in her bedroom and came back to find this
look at his self-satisfied little face, the cheeky shit
motherfucking australia
if there was a post to describe australia, this is it
wait.
you mean to tell me this isn’t even a pet bird?
that in australia, you have wild birds that just fly from house to house with the express purpose of fucking shit up?
fucking HELL australia, what is wrong with you?
wake up australia
That’s what birds do
They fly around and fuck shit up
Do you have some kind of mysterious nice birds in your weird foreign country
Do birds in America and England fly into your house and make the bed and tidy up the living room a little bit
It’s cold here, so they just bounce off the windows and lie there and twitch spasmodically while you look for the shovel.
Basically hurling themselves at windows is the worst thing birds do
yeah man a kookaburra literally flew into a classroom at my high school and just sat his smug ass down on top of the desk for a good 20 minutes
why has nobody mentioned the fact that in australia there are 3-4 months a year where everybody just accepts that they’re going to get attacked by magpies. It is literally called “swooping season” and these birds will fly down to peck your fucking face, and people get their eyes ripped out and shit, it’s fucking brutal.
My teacher had to go to hospital and have surgery because of swooping season. It was in the parking lot of school and all the kids would do a mad dash towards the car as the magpies tried to kill us.
no but when you’re 12 years old and riding your bike like mad on the way home from school with an icecream bucket on your head with like branches and shit sticking out if it to scare them off and none of this is considered strange
what the actual fuck australia
I am pretty sure all of these Australia stories are a massive, globally-spanning trolling effort, and only the people who have visited the country are allowed to be in on the joke.
Nope.
Went there.
Parrots tried to take our car.
Came home IN A FUCKING HURRY.
Interesting thing about magpies - they’re not great at identifying individual humans visually, but if you make yourself identifiable in some way they’re usually open to reason. We used to have some very aggressive swoopers in our back yard - as soon as they realised that the humans *inside* the fence never bothered them and were the source of the delicious compost heap, they turned into flying black and white guard dogs who would viciously assault any passing stranger but never bothered anyone inside the yard. Several times they swooped at us when we approached from outside, then when we walked into the yard they would pull up and act incredibly apologetic like sorry ma’am I had no idea it was you I would never please don’t stop stocking the food pile.
There was another little group of magpies in the park who would attack any solo pedestrian but never bothered anyone walking a dog or pushing a pram, because apparently those were identifiable traits indicating a non-threatening human. In the spirit of inquiry, I started going out of my way to be polite to the magpies - carefully walking a wide arc around them when they were on the ground, etc - and emitting an identifiable call of ‘hello birdie’ before swooping season started.
I spent the next ten years crossing that park at least once a day and as long as I turned at the first flutter of wings and said ‘hello birdie’ to the magpie waiting to attack as soon as my back was turned, I was fine. Every time, the magpie would stare at me for a minute and then fly off to harass some other pedestrian because apparently the magpies and I, we were cool.
Parrots are a lot less open to negotiation, and the little bastards travel in flocks. Beware the parrots.
Australia: the only country where it is necessary to sign a peace treaty with the birds in order to stay unmangled.
They did lose the Emu War, after all.
Look.
I’ve read a lot of @seananmcguire‘s stories, both her novels and the things she’s done in real life. She’s got a pretty delightful attitude of open curiosity when it comes to a lot of weird and possibly dangerous things in nature that would put off many.
If birds in Australia drove her back to the relative safety of North America? That’s scary.
I’m not high enough level to deal with Australia, I think.
In New Zealand we have parrots that will rip the rubber door seals, windscreen wipers and hubcaps off your car. Our nature is generally a lot less rip-roaring insane than Australian nature but we do have that.
Evidence: Douchebag Parrot Decides To Destroy A Man’s Rental Car
via https://ift.tt/2RDMoKn
tsukinofaerii:
roddytheruin:
fuocogo:
girlsandart:
harold-shes-lesbian:
this is too real though
SNL has pretty much never given any fucks but lately they’re at the point of giving negative fucks
You can tell the audience is struggling to not aknowledge accurate this is since the accuracy is the funny part.
ponytails?
The general “make sure he rapes someone else” training back in the 90s was to never wear a ponytail because it’s easy to grab. Saw similar things for loose clothing in general, and also skirts.
I got this from school (the whole sex ed “here’s what to know about your menstrual cycle and oh BTW here’s the ways you can ask to be raped” thing) to my parents (”never trust men ever for anything EVER”) to magazines and general “safety tips” like the flyers you sometimes see in women’s rooms. It was usually billed as Common Sense Ways To Avoid Becoming a Victim. Usually included not wearing heels, carry your keys in your hand and lock the car as soon as you’re in it, park under a light pole, etc.
So… yeah. There’s a lot there.
tsukinofaerii:
roddytheruin:
fuocogo:
girlsandart:
harold-shes-lesbian:
this is too real though
SNL has pretty much never given any fucks but lately they’re at the point of giving negative fucks
You can tell the audience is struggling to not aknowledge accurate this is since the accuracy is the funny part.
ponytails?
The general “make sure he rapes someone else” training back in the 90s was to never wear a ponytail because it’s easy to grab. Saw similar things for loose clothing in general, and also skirts.
I got this from school (the whole sex ed “here’s what to know about your menstrual cycle and oh BTW here’s the ways you can ask to be raped” thing) to my parents (”never trust men ever for anything EVER”) to magazines and general “safety tips” like the flyers you sometimes see in women’s rooms. It was usually billed as Common Sense Ways To Avoid Becoming a Victim. Usually included not wearing heels, carry your keys in your hand and lock the car as soon as you’re in it, park under a light pole, etc.
So… yeah. There’s a lot there.
via https://ift.tt/2Ei5faU
gallusrostromegalus:
splinteredstar:
thebibliosphere:
gallusrostromegalus:
thebibliosphere:
thebibliosphere:
Sometimes when I’m sad I like to imagine what would happen in a crossover universe between Discworld and Harry Potter, and what Granny Weatherwax would make of their style of magic.
But then I think about more important things, like what would have happened if Granny Weatherwax ever met Albus Dumbledore, and I can’t help but feel a whole lot of shit could have been avoided if he’d had a good clip round the ear and a strong talking to about the whole “my hands are tied” bullshit that enabled years of abuse and suffering at the hands of adults in a position of authority over young, vulnerable people.
Like oh, this spell requires the bond of blood to keep him safe, all right. So that just means we’re not going to hold these adults accountable for their torment and abuse? I think the entire fuck not, Albus.
Snape is a double agent who is actually working for the greater good. All right, but that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute fucking shit weasel who shouldn’t be around children until he learns to control himself and works out his issues in a safe and sane manner, what the fuck, Albus.
You have an entire school system that ascribes to ideas of inherent morality when in fact this is a thing that needs to be taught? Well no wonder there’s one house in particular that keeps going off the rails, you keep telling them they’re evil. Tell people something for long enough they’ll start to believe you. There’s nothing wrong with being selfish and cunning, sometimes that’s what it takes to survive. Teach them how to use those traits for good. As strength. My land, my home, my people (not my daughter, you bitch) how dare you try to hurt them. Teach them, Albus, you have to bloody teach them and realize that evil isn’t born. It’s made. In a thousand small deplorable ways. And it starts with treating people like things and I cannot be having with this.
Of course there’s also the other flipside to this thought process, which is imagining Gytha “Nanny” Ogg shouting “watcher Molly” as she thumps Bellatrix Lestrange on the back of the head with a cauldron, and drops her like a fucking stone. Later they’ll sit together and grieve, later there will be time to pick up the pieces and mourn. But for now there are things to fight for, people to keep alive. And people to keep from doing what they shouldn’t ever have to do, so you find a way to do it for them, by hook, crook or blunt force trauma.
And because my head wont let go of this thought:
“You always was a right little miss,” she said, taking a puff from her pipe and resettling her weight with a hefty bounce as the younger witch struggled to get out from under Nanny’s considerable girth. “Giving yourself airs and graces and such. Pretending you was too good to scrub a pot. Well, let me tell you something, Mistress Lestrange, you ain’t fit for nothing no more except maybe a noose. And if I had my way that might be the end of it. But we don’t do things like that no more, we don’t rule by blood.”
“Then you’re weak,” Lestrange shot back, still struggling to claw her way free. “A weak, old woman with nothing left but tricks up your fat sleeve.”
Nanny puffed in silence for a few more moments, then reached up her sleeve. “And your wand, dearie. Walnut is it? With a dragon heartstring core? Very nice, painting it black was a bit much, but you always were fond of your dramatics.”
She pulled out her own wand, holding it out under Bellatrix’s nose, whose face went cross eyed and then wide with panic.
“You know, I’ve only ever heard of Priori Incantatem,” she said, puffing on the end of her pipe until the pit glowed cherry red then white hot and she exhaled smoke like a dragon, “but I wasn’t about to risk it, not in front of all those kiddies. But I reckon now might be a good time…”
Also, for your consideration. Feegles.
“Haul yoo, aye yoo, the great big ugly gangly scunner wi-oot a nose. Can ye sew? Well stitch this.”
Harry watched in consternation as Voldemort staggered back, dropped to the ground like a ton of bricks and lay still.
“That’s it?” he demanded, lowering his wand. “That’s all you had to do?”
Rob Anybody, perched on his shoulder, looked up at the young wizard out the corner of the eye, which was to say he looked him in the nostrils.
“Weell,” he said, gesturing towards the chaos that had been unleashed as the full force of the Nac Mac Feegle was unleashed upon the band of Death Eaters, primarily by running up the inside of their trousers. “That’s the thing about the lads. Once they’ve decided tae dae something, they dae it good and hard.”
“But you just headbutted him!”
“Aye, weill,” Rob said, feeling as though the lad wasn’t quite grasping the practicality of the situation, “he might be a bloody great dark bigjob wizard, but he cannae cast a spell wi-oot a heid.”
Ok but the one I want to see is Dolores Umbridge vs Munstrum Ridcully, becuase that would be the Petty Academic Slapfight of doom.
Because Ridcully, for all his faults, probably understands that the actual learning of magic relies on a certain degree of both freedom and madness and sometimes explosions.
And Umbridge would crawl right up his skin with her concept of a “Defense Against The Dark Arts” Course, and in the middle of a lecture on recent runes, would go on a “tangent” on the history of various dark wizards and the means by which they were defeated and here Why Don’t We Have A Practical Outside, The Weather Is Nice (The weather is not nice. It’s Scotland. In Late November.) But everyone is really curious to see the old man actually take his wand out for once, only to discover that that’s not a wand at all, that’s a Burleigh & Stronginthearm and they’re all going to pass it around and whoever shoots the weathervane off the top of Ravenclaw tower gets 50 points. Hannah Abbot puts a bolt through Umbridge’s window, taking out a kitten plate and gets 100 points.
Fred and George turn the third floor corridor into a Swamp and Umbridge is pleased to hear Ridcully bellowing at the Weasley boys about “BLOODY INSONSIDERATE, NEVER HAVE I EVER MET SUCH WRETCHEDLY-” but the second she’s around the corner it changes to “-brilliant young men, how much is this setup you have here? That potions-master could do with some aggravated moisturizing. Speaking of moisturizing, what would it take to get you two gentlemen to work on the faculty baths? Disgustingly substandard, nowhere to put your nail trimmings-”
Ridcully would like the students there too, I think. Especially the Slytherins, because he’s perfectly aware how important being a cunning bastard and willing to get your hands dirty or bloody if needed is, especially in the world of Magical Academia. They’re socially intelligent and disenchanted with the system, not Evil, Albus. The Malfoy boy would be a lot less trouble if he had something to do besides practicing subject’s he’s bored with. Fratricide, perhaps. I’m kidding Albus! (he’s only sort of kidding. Maybe not murder. Just turn him into a toad and keep him as a familair in a bowl on the mantlepiece.)
He’d be so mad about the Chamber of secrets though. Potter! A Basilisk! Why didn’t you bring the head back up it’d be magnificent hanging over the great hall.
Oh I see.
Well why didn’t you go BACK? Perfectly good potion ingredients going to waste, doesn’t that brooding mop of a potions master teach you anything about looti- er, collecting spell components?
I forgot I wrote this haha, and I’m glad @gallusrostromegalus made it better.
Okay but feagles and house elves tho
Obeyin’ the hag is one thing, but any hag that’d that inna worth the title
(Dobby takes it up first, under his breath: “no lords and no masters”)
Havelock Vetenari is not a man to “Go Spare”, and certainly not without good cause but that shambling mountain of paperwork and prejudice they call “The Ministry Of Magic” is several thousand good reasons. He doesn’t even WANT to take over this disaster but he can’t rest so long as it continues to exist.
But. He’s better than that. Why waste time in pointless rage when there are things he can actually do to fix this?
“Mr. Lipvig.” He says, conversationally. “Did you know that the currency conversion rates haven’t changed since Gringotts was founded? Seventeen silver sickles to a gold galleon since the 1100’s”
He doesn’t really need to say anything else. Moist blinks a few times, then gradually begins to vibrate as every instinct he possess is called to the forefront.
“They’re just down the street if you wanted to see their facilities-”
Moist’s chair actually spins with the force of his rapid departure.“
gallusrostromegalus:
splinteredstar:
thebibliosphere:
gallusrostromegalus:
thebibliosphere:
thebibliosphere:
Sometimes when I’m sad I like to imagine what would happen in a crossover universe between Discworld and Harry Potter, and what Granny Weatherwax would make of their style of magic.
But then I think about more important things, like what would have happened if Granny Weatherwax ever met Albus Dumbledore, and I can’t help but feel a whole lot of shit could have been avoided if he’d had a good clip round the ear and a strong talking to about the whole “my hands are tied” bullshit that enabled years of abuse and suffering at the hands of adults in a position of authority over young, vulnerable people.
Like oh, this spell requires the bond of blood to keep him safe, all right. So that just means we’re not going to hold these adults accountable for their torment and abuse? I think the entire fuck not, Albus.
Snape is a double agent who is actually working for the greater good. All right, but that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute fucking shit weasel who shouldn’t be around children until he learns to control himself and works out his issues in a safe and sane manner, what the fuck, Albus.
You have an entire school system that ascribes to ideas of inherent morality when in fact this is a thing that needs to be taught? Well no wonder there’s one house in particular that keeps going off the rails, you keep telling them they’re evil. Tell people something for long enough they’ll start to believe you. There’s nothing wrong with being selfish and cunning, sometimes that’s what it takes to survive. Teach them how to use those traits for good. As strength. My land, my home, my people (not my daughter, you bitch) how dare you try to hurt them. Teach them, Albus, you have to bloody teach them and realize that evil isn’t born. It’s made. In a thousand small deplorable ways. And it starts with treating people like things and I cannot be having with this.
Of course there’s also the other flipside to this thought process, which is imagining Gytha “Nanny” Ogg shouting “watcher Molly” as she thumps Bellatrix Lestrange on the back of the head with a cauldron, and drops her like a fucking stone. Later they’ll sit together and grieve, later there will be time to pick up the pieces and mourn. But for now there are things to fight for, people to keep alive. And people to keep from doing what they shouldn’t ever have to do, so you find a way to do it for them, by hook, crook or blunt force trauma.
And because my head wont let go of this thought:
“You always was a right little miss,” she said, taking a puff from her pipe and resettling her weight with a hefty bounce as the younger witch struggled to get out from under Nanny’s considerable girth. “Giving yourself airs and graces and such. Pretending you was too good to scrub a pot. Well, let me tell you something, Mistress Lestrange, you ain’t fit for nothing no more except maybe a noose. And if I had my way that might be the end of it. But we don’t do things like that no more, we don’t rule by blood.”
“Then you’re weak,” Lestrange shot back, still struggling to claw her way free. “A weak, old woman with nothing left but tricks up your fat sleeve.”
Nanny puffed in silence for a few more moments, then reached up her sleeve. “And your wand, dearie. Walnut is it? With a dragon heartstring core? Very nice, painting it black was a bit much, but you always were fond of your dramatics.”
She pulled out her own wand, holding it out under Bellatrix’s nose, whose face went cross eyed and then wide with panic.
“You know, I’ve only ever heard of Priori Incantatem,” she said, puffing on the end of her pipe until the pit glowed cherry red then white hot and she exhaled smoke like a dragon, “but I wasn’t about to risk it, not in front of all those kiddies. But I reckon now might be a good time…”
Also, for your consideration. Feegles.
“Haul yoo, aye yoo, the great big ugly gangly scunner wi-oot a nose. Can ye sew? Well stitch this.”
Harry watched in consternation as Voldemort staggered back, dropped to the ground like a ton of bricks and lay still.
“That’s it?” he demanded, lowering his wand. “That’s all you had to do?”
Rob Anybody, perched on his shoulder, looked up at the young wizard out the corner of the eye, which was to say he looked him in the nostrils.
“Weell,” he said, gesturing towards the chaos that had been unleashed as the full force of the Nac Mac Feegle was unleashed upon the band of Death Eaters, primarily by running up the inside of their trousers. “That’s the thing about the lads. Once they’ve decided tae dae something, they dae it good and hard.”
“But you just headbutted him!”
“Aye, weill,” Rob said, feeling as though the lad wasn’t quite grasping the practicality of the situation, “he might be a bloody great dark bigjob wizard, but he cannae cast a spell wi-oot a heid.”
Ok but the one I want to see is Dolores Umbridge vs Munstrum Ridcully, becuase that would be the Petty Academic Slapfight of doom.
Because Ridcully, for all his faults, probably understands that the actual learning of magic relies on a certain degree of both freedom and madness and sometimes explosions.
And Umbridge would crawl right up his skin with her concept of a “Defense Against The Dark Arts” Course, and in the middle of a lecture on recent runes, would go on a “tangent” on the history of various dark wizards and the means by which they were defeated and here Why Don’t We Have A Practical Outside, The Weather Is Nice (The weather is not nice. It’s Scotland. In Late November.) But everyone is really curious to see the old man actually take his wand out for once, only to discover that that’s not a wand at all, that’s a Burleigh & Stronginthearm and they’re all going to pass it around and whoever shoots the weathervane off the top of Ravenclaw tower gets 50 points. Hannah Abbot puts a bolt through Umbridge’s window, taking out a kitten plate and gets 100 points.
Fred and George turn the third floor corridor into a Swamp and Umbridge is pleased to hear Ridcully bellowing at the Weasley boys about “BLOODY INSONSIDERATE, NEVER HAVE I EVER MET SUCH WRETCHEDLY-” but the second she’s around the corner it changes to “-brilliant young men, how much is this setup you have here? That potions-master could do with some aggravated moisturizing. Speaking of moisturizing, what would it take to get you two gentlemen to work on the faculty baths? Disgustingly substandard, nowhere to put your nail trimmings-”
Ridcully would like the students there too, I think. Especially the Slytherins, because he’s perfectly aware how important being a cunning bastard and willing to get your hands dirty or bloody if needed is, especially in the world of Magical Academia. They’re socially intelligent and disenchanted with the system, not Evil, Albus. The Malfoy boy would be a lot less trouble if he had something to do besides practicing subject’s he’s bored with. Fratricide, perhaps. I’m kidding Albus! (he’s only sort of kidding. Maybe not murder. Just turn him into a toad and keep him as a familair in a bowl on the mantlepiece.)
He’d be so mad about the Chamber of secrets though. Potter! A Basilisk! Why didn’t you bring the head back up it’d be magnificent hanging over the great hall.
Oh I see.
Well why didn’t you go BACK? Perfectly good potion ingredients going to waste, doesn’t that brooding mop of a potions master teach you anything about looti- er, collecting spell components?
I forgot I wrote this haha, and I’m glad @gallusrostromegalus made it better.
Okay but feagles and house elves tho
Obeyin’ the hag is one thing, but any hag that’d that inna worth the title
(Dobby takes it up first, under his breath: “no lords and no masters”)
Havelock Vetenari is not a man to “Go Spare”, and certainly not without good cause but that shambling mountain of paperwork and prejudice they call “The Ministry Of Magic” is several thousand good reasons. He doesn’t even WANT to take over this disaster but he can’t rest so long as it continues to exist.
But. He’s better than that. Why waste time in pointless rage when there are things he can actually do to fix this?
“Mr. Lipvig.” He says, conversationally. “Did you know that the currency conversion rates haven’t changed since Gringotts was founded? Seventeen silver sickles to a gold galleon since the 1100’s”
He doesn’t really need to say anything else. Moist blinks a few times, then gradually begins to vibrate as every instinct he possess is called to the forefront.
“They’re just down the street if you wanted to see their facilities-”
Moist’s chair actually spins with the force of his rapid departure.“
via https://ift.tt/2EiIB2f
realtrashwitch:
quinndolyns:
people seem to have trouble understanding why i’m an anti-capitalist, so i’m going to try and put it into simple, real-life terms.
i work at a restaurant. i make $12 an hour, plus tips. minimum wage where i live is relatively high for my country - the national minimum wage is $7.25/hr, and has not been raised since 2009. before taxes, working full time, my yearly income is about $22,000 a year. ($25,000 if you count tips)
at my job, we sell various dishes, with an average price of about $10-$15. we get printouts every week detailing how much money we made that week; in one week, our restaurant makes about $30,000. (one of our other locations actually makes this much on a daily basis!)
i’m not going to go into details, but after the costs of production (payroll for employees, rent for the building, maintenance, and wholesale food purchasing) are accounted for, the restaurant makes an estimated profit of $20,000 per week.
this profit goes directly to the owner, who does not work at this location. the owner of my restaurant has actually been on vacation for a few months, but still profits from the restaurant, because they own it. i have met the owner exactly twice in my year of working here.
to put this into perspective, the owner of this restaurant earns in 2 days what they pay me in one year. and that’s just from this single location - the owner has several other restaurants, all of which make more money than the one i work at. this ends up resulting in the owner having an estimated net worth of tens of millions of dollars, even after accounting for the payroll for every single worker in their employ.
now, i have to ask you: does the owner of my restaurant deserve this income? did they earn it? did their labor result in this value being created?
the naive answer would be “yes”; the owner purchased the location and arranged for the raw ingredients to be delivered, did they not?
the actual answer is “no”. the owner may have used their initial capital to start the location, but the profit is a result of my labor, and the labor of my co-workers.
the owner purchases rice at a very low bulk price of about 25 cents a pound. i cook the rice, and within a few minutes, that pound of rice is suddenly worth about $30. the owner did not create this value, i did. the owner simply provided the initial capital investment required to start the process.
what needs to be understood here is that capitalists do not create value. they use the labor of their employees to create value, and then take the excess profit and keep it.
what needs to be understood is that capitalists accrue income by already HAVING money. the owner of my restaurant was only able to get this far because they started off, from the very beginning, with enough money to purchase a building, purchase food in bulk, and hire hundreds of employees.
that is to say: the rich get richer, and they do so by exploiting the labor of the poor.
the owner of my restaurant could afford to triple the income of every single person in their employee if they felt like it, but this would mean that they were generating less profit for themselves, so they do not.
the owner of my restaurant pays me the current minimum wage of my area, because to them, i am not a person. i am an investment. i am an asset. i am a means to create more money.
when you are paid minimum wage, the message your boss is sending you is this: “legally, if i could pay you less, i would.”
every capitalist on the planet exploits their workers for their own gain. every capitalist, even the small business owners, forces people to stay in poverty so that the capitalist can profit.
this should be in textbooks
realtrashwitch:
quinndolyns:
people seem to have trouble understanding why i’m an anti-capitalist, so i’m going to try and put it into simple, real-life terms.
i work at a restaurant. i make $12 an hour, plus tips. minimum wage where i live is relatively high for my country - the national minimum wage is $7.25/hr, and has not been raised since 2009. before taxes, working full time, my yearly income is about $22,000 a year. ($25,000 if you count tips)
at my job, we sell various dishes, with an average price of about $10-$15. we get printouts every week detailing how much money we made that week; in one week, our restaurant makes about $30,000. (one of our other locations actually makes this much on a daily basis!)
i’m not going to go into details, but after the costs of production (payroll for employees, rent for the building, maintenance, and wholesale food purchasing) are accounted for, the restaurant makes an estimated profit of $20,000 per week.
this profit goes directly to the owner, who does not work at this location. the owner of my restaurant has actually been on vacation for a few months, but still profits from the restaurant, because they own it. i have met the owner exactly twice in my year of working here.
to put this into perspective, the owner of this restaurant earns in 2 days what they pay me in one year. and that’s just from this single location - the owner has several other restaurants, all of which make more money than the one i work at. this ends up resulting in the owner having an estimated net worth of tens of millions of dollars, even after accounting for the payroll for every single worker in their employ.
now, i have to ask you: does the owner of my restaurant deserve this income? did they earn it? did their labor result in this value being created?
the naive answer would be “yes”; the owner purchased the location and arranged for the raw ingredients to be delivered, did they not?
the actual answer is “no”. the owner may have used their initial capital to start the location, but the profit is a result of my labor, and the labor of my co-workers.
the owner purchases rice at a very low bulk price of about 25 cents a pound. i cook the rice, and within a few minutes, that pound of rice is suddenly worth about $30. the owner did not create this value, i did. the owner simply provided the initial capital investment required to start the process.
what needs to be understood here is that capitalists do not create value. they use the labor of their employees to create value, and then take the excess profit and keep it.
what needs to be understood is that capitalists accrue income by already HAVING money. the owner of my restaurant was only able to get this far because they started off, from the very beginning, with enough money to purchase a building, purchase food in bulk, and hire hundreds of employees.
that is to say: the rich get richer, and they do so by exploiting the labor of the poor.
the owner of my restaurant could afford to triple the income of every single person in their employee if they felt like it, but this would mean that they were generating less profit for themselves, so they do not.
the owner of my restaurant pays me the current minimum wage of my area, because to them, i am not a person. i am an investment. i am an asset. i am a means to create more money.
when you are paid minimum wage, the message your boss is sending you is this: “legally, if i could pay you less, i would.”
every capitalist on the planet exploits their workers for their own gain. every capitalist, even the small business owners, forces people to stay in poverty so that the capitalist can profit.
this should be in textbooks
heikala: Process of Lesson in Magic Fauna
Dec. 7th, 2018 07:56 amvia https://ift.tt/2RGOxoK
heikala:
Process of Lesson in Magic Fauna
……………………
Music was composed by video game and film composer @rycamus http://www.ryancamus.com
heikala:
Process of Lesson in Magic Fauna
……………………
Music was composed by video game and film composer @rycamus http://www.ryancamus.com
via https://ift.tt/2RF81tP
naamahdarling:
jackpotgirl:
sventhecrusader:
rowdyravens:
those posts criticizing common writing patterns in fanfiction are so fucking harmful and they ruined me
so like yknow what??? People tell you to avoid “smirk” and “chuckle” as descriptors because no one does those things (???) but then when I need to use those words I have a ten minute crisis about how I’m a shitty writer. So heres my unwarranted writing advice: If you want your characters to smirk and chuckle fucking let them and don’t let anyone tell you that no one smirks or chuckles because I do both on a daily basis whenever I tell a shitty pun, bye
Edgy fanfiction critics can eat my entire ass.
i smirk and chuckle frequently…so I guess I don’t exist…
Have these people literally never said anything while sort of laughing, because that’s a fucking chuckle. I do it ALL THE TIME.
naamahdarling:
jackpotgirl:
sventhecrusader:
rowdyravens:
those posts criticizing common writing patterns in fanfiction are so fucking harmful and they ruined me
so like yknow what??? People tell you to avoid “smirk” and “chuckle” as descriptors because no one does those things (???) but then when I need to use those words I have a ten minute crisis about how I’m a shitty writer. So heres my unwarranted writing advice: If you want your characters to smirk and chuckle fucking let them and don’t let anyone tell you that no one smirks or chuckles because I do both on a daily basis whenever I tell a shitty pun, bye
Edgy fanfiction critics can eat my entire ass.
i smirk and chuckle frequently…so I guess I don’t exist…
Have these people literally never said anything while sort of laughing, because that’s a fucking chuckle. I do it ALL THE TIME.
via https://ift.tt/2Ql7LUn
marvelheroes:
“This was an initial idea for #CaptainAmerica for #InfinityWar. We tried a lot of different things for him and one of them was that he had left his Cap costume totally behind.” — Ryan Meinerding, Character Designer, Concept Artist and Marvel Studios Head of Visual Development
marvelheroes:
“This was an initial idea for #CaptainAmerica for #InfinityWar. We tried a lot of different things for him and one of them was that he had left his Cap costume totally behind.” — Ryan Meinerding, Character Designer, Concept Artist and Marvel Studios Head of Visual Development
via https://ift.tt/2RGATSC
thewugtest:
if youve never physically been in the presence of like, a real live wolf, and you probably wont get the chance to, heres some stuff about them you should know
a wolf’s fur is so unbelievably thick that you can get like, your whole hand into it while petting. and then you can keep going
wolves are a lot bigger than you think they are. think about how big you think a wolf is then just like double that
they dont really smell like dog but they DO smell and youre not going to be able to figure out if its a good smell or not
a wolf really wants to lick the inside of your mouth. he will not stop trying to lick the inside of your mouth at any cost, and generally speaking you need to press your lips together kind of tightly when he approaches your face so that he doesnt worm his damn tongue in there to give you what he thinks is an appropriate greeting
a wolf doesnt really want to look at you while you pet him but he wants you to pet him. hes embarrassed
if a grown ass wolf decides to lay down on you, you just have to deal with it and thats your life now
young wolves, much like young dogs, are overwhelmingly goofy and stupid. a teenage wolf will see your very fragile, very human shoulder and go “i can probably step on that with my full weight” and then he will do it
letting a wolf eat out of your hand is actually not remotely frightening, and youll want to do it all day
thewugtest:
if youve never physically been in the presence of like, a real live wolf, and you probably wont get the chance to, heres some stuff about them you should know
a wolf’s fur is so unbelievably thick that you can get like, your whole hand into it while petting. and then you can keep going
wolves are a lot bigger than you think they are. think about how big you think a wolf is then just like double that
they dont really smell like dog but they DO smell and youre not going to be able to figure out if its a good smell or not
a wolf really wants to lick the inside of your mouth. he will not stop trying to lick the inside of your mouth at any cost, and generally speaking you need to press your lips together kind of tightly when he approaches your face so that he doesnt worm his damn tongue in there to give you what he thinks is an appropriate greeting
a wolf doesnt really want to look at you while you pet him but he wants you to pet him. hes embarrassed
if a grown ass wolf decides to lay down on you, you just have to deal with it and thats your life now
young wolves, much like young dogs, are overwhelmingly goofy and stupid. a teenage wolf will see your very fragile, very human shoulder and go “i can probably step on that with my full weight” and then he will do it
letting a wolf eat out of your hand is actually not remotely frightening, and youll want to do it all day
via https://ift.tt/2QhH3Mq
trickerydickerydock:
So we know how two of the favorite superhero peril tropes are A) Threaten a Loved One and B) Villain unwittingly taking the in-civvies Hero as a hostage. Venom and Eddie’s situation presents an opportunity for a special hybrid of both.
Because honestly, both Venom and Eddie have all the subtlety of a firework stand in a bonfire and X Evil Organization is bound to tail the burly man-eating monster to Eddie’s home and
Goons, breaking down the door: Alright Brock, no more games
Eddie: What
Goons: Don’t play dumb here, Eddie. We know the truth and our employer is determined to have a long, violent chat with the bastard eating all of his men. So we’ll make this simple for you:
Goons: Where is your 10 ft tall cannibal boyfriend?
Eddie:
Venom, inside Eddie: Eddie. Eddie, tell them where he is
Eddie, going thru every stage of grief and inventing new ones: ………………..um
Venom, all up in Eddie’s everything, every slime cell of him laughing to tears: Tell them where your boyfriend is, Eddie
trickerydickerydock:
So we know how two of the favorite superhero peril tropes are A) Threaten a Loved One and B) Villain unwittingly taking the in-civvies Hero as a hostage. Venom and Eddie’s situation presents an opportunity for a special hybrid of both.
Because honestly, both Venom and Eddie have all the subtlety of a firework stand in a bonfire and X Evil Organization is bound to tail the burly man-eating monster to Eddie’s home and
Goons, breaking down the door: Alright Brock, no more games
Eddie: What
Goons: Don’t play dumb here, Eddie. We know the truth and our employer is determined to have a long, violent chat with the bastard eating all of his men. So we’ll make this simple for you:
Goons: Where is your 10 ft tall cannibal boyfriend?
Eddie:
Venom, inside Eddie: Eddie. Eddie, tell them where he is
Eddie, going thru every stage of grief and inventing new ones: ………………..um
Venom, all up in Eddie’s everything, every slime cell of him laughing to tears: Tell them where your boyfriend is, Eddie
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xenosaurus:
unamedwatcher:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
Story concept: an orphanage/group home for chosen ones whose families were killed by ~destiny~
It’s run by a chosen heroine whose adventure was 2 decades ago and the sweet team-mom healer from her team, who she has since married.
It’s mostly trope comedy with moments of real emotion, here are some ideas for kids:
—two teenaged boys who WERE barreling towards a tragic rivalry that ends in one of them falling to darkness… until one of them confessed that he was just trying to show off because he has a crush on the other one. They’re now dating and the comedy comes from the universe CONSTANTLY trying to get them to fight and failing.
—an eight year old who keeps tattling on the demons who are whispering to her and then getting into sibling fights with them
—a brooding, edgy fire-wielding boy and a brooding, edgy fire-wielding girl who can’t figure out which mystical signs belong to who
—like six kids named Hope who go by names like “Pink Hope”, “Hope the second” and “I’ve been told I’m not allowed to shorten my name to ‘Ho’ so I will now be going by Dick just to spite them”
IDK if I’m going to write this but it’s fun to worldbuild so here’s some more!
The two fire kids have a big age gap, with the girl being 10 and the boy being 17. They spend so much time together trying to untangle their destinies that they wind up developing a brother-sister relationship. The girl is one of the Hopes and the boy’s name is Fox, which results in the following exchange being commonplace.
A: so then Hope—
B: which Hope?
A: oh, baby fox.
Oh, character consolidation idea: Fox is also one of the boys who dodged a fatal rivalry, obviously being the ‘tempted to the dark side’ half of the equation. His full name is Foxglove, and his boyfriend’s name is Raven. Raven is the one to confess and Fox was so shocked he needed to sit down for like 5 minutes to re-evaluate his entire perspective on reality.
Fox is the EPITOME of “oh shit, I didn’t hate him, I was just gay.”
Fox two years ago: Whenever he laughs I get all sweaty and agitated, and that stupid ‘oh look at me I’m so handsome’ grin is so obnoxious it bothers me for hours after I have talk to the guy! God, Raven’s the worst.
Fox now: yeah, turns out the only thing I hated about Raven is that he wasn’t kissing me right that second
The owner’s wife is a subversion on the “cute, sweet, gentle healer love interest who dies in act 2” trope, and her name is Maribelle. She’s just under five feet tall and built like somebody replaced all her bones with toothpicks— she’s TINY.
She is also, as the villain discovered in spectacularly violent fashion when he kidnapped her, the most dangerous member of the party by far.
Because she ISN’T a cleric and she wasn’t using light magic at all. She uses raw magic, which is a rare talent for humans because it’s hard to control and tends to destroy the weirder before their enemies. Maribelle’s love for her friends was LITERALLY the source of her healing magic, because she uses her emotions to shape her spells.
On the other side of that, the emotions associated with trapping her and threatening to kill her girlfriend? She WRECKED him and took the whole hideout down in the process.
OKAY I named the woman who runs the place, her name is Summer!
A lot of people just know her as “the farner’s daughter” because her particular journey of heroics started with a prophecy that said a farmer’s eldest daughter would bring about the death of the tyrannical king. Which, uh, she did, except that it was Maribelle who killed the guy in Summer’s defense.
A prophet rolls in on wheely shoes with a starbucks Frappuccino: IT TECHNICALLY WASN’T WRONG!
This comment made me laugh omg
xenosaurus:
unamedwatcher:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
xenosaurus:
Story concept: an orphanage/group home for chosen ones whose families were killed by ~destiny~
It’s run by a chosen heroine whose adventure was 2 decades ago and the sweet team-mom healer from her team, who she has since married.
It’s mostly trope comedy with moments of real emotion, here are some ideas for kids:
—two teenaged boys who WERE barreling towards a tragic rivalry that ends in one of them falling to darkness… until one of them confessed that he was just trying to show off because he has a crush on the other one. They’re now dating and the comedy comes from the universe CONSTANTLY trying to get them to fight and failing.
—an eight year old who keeps tattling on the demons who are whispering to her and then getting into sibling fights with them
—a brooding, edgy fire-wielding boy and a brooding, edgy fire-wielding girl who can’t figure out which mystical signs belong to who
—like six kids named Hope who go by names like “Pink Hope”, “Hope the second” and “I’ve been told I’m not allowed to shorten my name to ‘Ho’ so I will now be going by Dick just to spite them”
IDK if I’m going to write this but it’s fun to worldbuild so here’s some more!
The two fire kids have a big age gap, with the girl being 10 and the boy being 17. They spend so much time together trying to untangle their destinies that they wind up developing a brother-sister relationship. The girl is one of the Hopes and the boy’s name is Fox, which results in the following exchange being commonplace.
A: so then Hope—
B: which Hope?
A: oh, baby fox.
Oh, character consolidation idea: Fox is also one of the boys who dodged a fatal rivalry, obviously being the ‘tempted to the dark side’ half of the equation. His full name is Foxglove, and his boyfriend’s name is Raven. Raven is the one to confess and Fox was so shocked he needed to sit down for like 5 minutes to re-evaluate his entire perspective on reality.
Fox is the EPITOME of “oh shit, I didn’t hate him, I was just gay.”
Fox two years ago: Whenever he laughs I get all sweaty and agitated, and that stupid ‘oh look at me I’m so handsome’ grin is so obnoxious it bothers me for hours after I have talk to the guy! God, Raven’s the worst.
Fox now: yeah, turns out the only thing I hated about Raven is that he wasn’t kissing me right that second
The owner’s wife is a subversion on the “cute, sweet, gentle healer love interest who dies in act 2” trope, and her name is Maribelle. She’s just under five feet tall and built like somebody replaced all her bones with toothpicks— she’s TINY.
She is also, as the villain discovered in spectacularly violent fashion when he kidnapped her, the most dangerous member of the party by far.
Because she ISN’T a cleric and she wasn’t using light magic at all. She uses raw magic, which is a rare talent for humans because it’s hard to control and tends to destroy the weirder before their enemies. Maribelle’s love for her friends was LITERALLY the source of her healing magic, because she uses her emotions to shape her spells.
On the other side of that, the emotions associated with trapping her and threatening to kill her girlfriend? She WRECKED him and took the whole hideout down in the process.
OKAY I named the woman who runs the place, her name is Summer!
A lot of people just know her as “the farner’s daughter” because her particular journey of heroics started with a prophecy that said a farmer’s eldest daughter would bring about the death of the tyrannical king. Which, uh, she did, except that it was Maribelle who killed the guy in Summer’s defense.
A prophet rolls in on wheely shoes with a starbucks Frappuccino: IT TECHNICALLY WASN’T WRONG!
This comment made me laugh omg
via https://ift.tt/2QjTPKi
theactualcluegirl:
allthingshyper:
gehayi:
hiddlesbatchlove:
forever-falling-forward:
platredeparis:
bnycolew:
mannysiege:
Progress
What
Imma just let this sit here
MOTHA FUCKIN SCIENCE
sources:
Engagdget
DailyTech
CBS
They turned RNA into an anti-virus program. That is amazing.
Let me restate this in case it didn’t sink in the first time
Researchers physically DELETED ALL TRACES of the HIV virus from a human cell.
ALL OF IT.
IF YOU ARE NOT EXCITED ABOUT THAT I DON’T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT HIV IS
What they just described: that’s a vaccine. Hot fuckitty damn, kids!
theactualcluegirl:
allthingshyper:
gehayi:
hiddlesbatchlove:
forever-falling-forward:
platredeparis:
bnycolew:
mannysiege:
Progress
What
Imma just let this sit here
MOTHA FUCKIN SCIENCE
sources:
Engagdget
DailyTech
CBS
They turned RNA into an anti-virus program. That is amazing.
Let me restate this in case it didn’t sink in the first time
Researchers physically DELETED ALL TRACES of the HIV virus from a human cell.
ALL OF IT.
IF YOU ARE NOT EXCITED ABOUT THAT I DON’T THINK YOU KNOW WHAT HIV IS
What they just described: that’s a vaccine. Hot fuckitty damn, kids!
via https://ift.tt/2UnvWjq
werewolf-boi:
lokisuggestion:
1dietcokeinacan:
My heart is so full
Listen. I am shown a great many catte images by my loyal adherents and followers. But this short film clip…is of a caliber beyond most others.
@sowhatelseisblu
werewolf-boi:
lokisuggestion:
1dietcokeinacan:
My heart is so full
Listen. I am shown a great many catte images by my loyal adherents and followers. But this short film clip…is of a caliber beyond most others.
@sowhatelseisblu
via https://ift.tt/2UoTWCt
theactualcluegirl:
unfugbilder:
https://twitter.com/AgathaChocolats
I sense a new meme budding into life…
theactualcluegirl:
unfugbilder:
https://twitter.com/AgathaChocolats
I sense a new meme budding into life…
via https://ift.tt/2AWNhXx
petite-madame:
Steve, redraw inspired by a concept art of “The Nomad” - (2018)
According to a concept art from the book The Art of Infinity War (and from what artist Ryan Meinerding posted at his Twitter), this is what Steve could have looked like in the movie. (You also have Bucky HERE)
petite-madame:
Steve, redraw inspired by a concept art of “The Nomad” - (2018)
According to a concept art from the book The Art of Infinity War (and from what artist Ryan Meinerding posted at his Twitter), this is what Steve could have looked like in the movie. (You also have Bucky HERE)
crossposting
Dec. 7th, 2018 08:53 amvia https://ift.tt/2EiOvQK
gods but I wish there were a way to tell the ifttt-tool to only “post” a picture on dreamwidth when the tumblr post really has one.
and gods and spirits do I wish there were a way to teach it to handle more than one picture/media if it exist in the tumblr post! like, some actual if-then!
like, I am accrueing a backlog of gif sets and pic posts that I dont wanna post bc they will be entire mangled in the crosspost-process! that sucks! I don´t have the braisnpace right now! UGH!
gods but I wish there were a way to tell the ifttt-tool to only “post” a picture on dreamwidth when the tumblr post really has one.
and gods and spirits do I wish there were a way to teach it to handle more than one picture/media if it exist in the tumblr post! like, some actual if-then!
like, I am accrueing a backlog of gif sets and pic posts that I dont wanna post bc they will be entire mangled in the crosspost-process! that sucks! I don´t have the braisnpace right now! UGH!