Reblogged amemait
Reblogged perri-berry
I want you to remember:
The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.
Thanks to whoever tried, but I knew they'd never allow it.
Let's do it the old fashioned way. Spread it far and wide.
Reminder: you can't be the whole wall against stopping fascism by yourself. Nobody can. But you damn sure can be a brick.
There's a lot of good comments and tags in the notes, but this one is very important, I feel like it deserves some emphasis.
Part of how authoritarianism works is telling you that you can't stop it. And you can't stop it by yourself. But it wants to stop the train of thought there and let you fall into despair.
You need to remember the next part: you don't have to stop it by yourself.
You're not alone. Take care of your community and let your community take care of you. Supporting each other is so vital.
Reblogged gallusrostromegalus
it's funny because my job involves a lot of using a box cutter, so you'd think that's the thing I'd accidentally hurt myself with the most
but nooo no no no. the box cutter is my colleague, my ally, my friend. you know what is truly bloodthirsty in a print & signage shop? literally Anything Else that's able to cut but not supposed to. cardboard, sheets of plastic, the humble paper of course, corrugated polypropylene, aluminum composite sheets - i nicked myself on a sheet of magnetic material today?? it bled. kinda profusely.
basically:
- box cutter: a trusty companion, might hurt you if you handle it wrong, but that's understandable
- stuff you use the box cutter on: they know you as their enemy. they know the rules of this life: kill, or be killed. they know what they have to do.
thank you. the people need to know about the real menace
Reblogged alexandra-erin
Broke: vulcans donโt play games, as they are illogical
Woke: vulcans absolutely play games as resting so as to recuperate after exertion is highly logical and they have a marked preference for the Terran game, chess
Third eye slaming open at 4:27am: vulcans love poker. They wonโt mention it and theyโll justify it but after first contact they descended on poker like a murder of starving ravens as a unified cultural phenomenon
I donโt watch Star Trek really but โCompetitive emotional suppression with probability assessment and observation skillsโ is the most Vulcan leisure activity I can imagine.ย
youโre SO right and you should say it!!!
Reblogged bengesko
Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.
Carpathia received Titanicโs distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.
(Californianโs exact position at the time isโฆcontroversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanicโs distress rockets. Itโs uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)
Carpathiaโs Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanicโs aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.
All of Carpathiaโs lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.
I donโt know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.
Carpathia had threeย dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awakeโprepping a ship for disaster relief isnโt quietโand all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.
And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.
Hereโs the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining roomsโwhich, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when sheโd done that, he asked her to go faster.
I need you to understand that you simply canโt push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only recklessโitโs difficult to maneuverโbut it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They canโt do it. It canโt be done.
Carpathiaโs absolute do-or-die, the-engines-canโt-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.
No one would have asked this of them. It wasnโt expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a responsibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.
They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.
This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanicโs last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.
In total, 705 people of Titanicโs original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.
At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.
I think the least we can do is remember them for it.
A good time to remember this story.
(And if you want to know more about how community and altruism are humanityโs characteristic response to disaster, read Rebecca Solnitโs A Paradise Built In Hell.)
Reblogged alexandra-erin
I think we should bring back 1980s style Horrible Little Man animated mascots, but this time extend them to products beyond food.
"Horrible Little Man who's fiendishly addicted to the product and will abase themselves utterly in order to get it", except the product in question is furniture.
"Horrible Little Man who inexplicably hates the product and will go to enormous (and inevitably futile) lengths to prevent others from consuming it" who just can't fucking stand blue jeans.
"Horrible Little Man who wields sinister magic to compel others to consume the product whether they like it or not" shilling for a major airline.
I NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT MY BLORBO, MR DELICIOUS.
He is the former mascot for Rax, โYou can eat here.โ Heโs a traumatized Vietnam vet with a vasectomy going through a midlife crisis who picked up drag.
He was such a bad mascot he killed the restaurant chain.
He could have been a tumblr sexyman in 2025. I love him so dearly and am currently writing about him getting pregnant.
Reblogged natalieironside
I will always reblog this.
I once spent three hours scouring the internet to find this comic again, I will not let that be repeated.
Reblogged bengesko
Lighter than a butterfly...
AMAZING !
That is absolute trust.
Reblogged bengesko
chicken jockey being the last possible 4chan post is fucking hilarious but there's so many amounts of comedic irony to it.
it's like a tyrant dying from falling over a medium sized brick wall. humiliating end.
chicken jockey is just, a bad omen at this point
but in this case, it's a blessing in disguise.
for those that don't know.
Reblogged vaspider
I know this is a joke but like, yeah. It is. I promise you.
See, I had graduated early from highschool and then got my associates in Zoology. But then, from ages 18-23, I was medicated with antipsychotics and (for those last two years) a deadly combo of sedatives due to misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis, and then a psychiatrist who was legitimately on drugs and just writing random shit that almost killed me.
Anyway, needless to say, my brain turned to mush and stopped working, and it took me 6 years to get some sort of bachelors degree (in fashion??) and I graduated at the bottom of my class.
And then I got properly diagnosed (the โpsychosisโ was just narcolepsy) and got off all those meds. And I was so afraid my brain was permanently fucked. And it is, cause of the narcolepsy part, but the narcolepsy doesnโt kill the parts of your brain where your smarts are.
But I went back to school. Got another bachelors studying sustainable tourism. Turns out my smarts hadnโt gone anywhere when my brain turned to mush. I graduated with a 3.98 GPA.
Now Iโm getting my masters in biology studying the intersection of tourism and the conservation of the critically endangered Cozumel raccoon. And doing well. ๐คท๐ปโโ๏ธ
Your brain is not a muscle in the literal sense, but it is a muscle in the sense that the more you use it, the better developed it becomes. Not using it might make its usefulness dip for a bit, but that doesn't mean it's gone forever. You might have to work your way back up, start with easier exercises (puzzles, creative exercises, critical thinking questions) before jumping back into the stuff you used to do, but like a couch to 5k slowly ramp up the difficulty and you'll get there in the end. No one's brains are useless, you just gotta meet 'em where they're at.
Reblogged vaspider
Fandom Wank needs a revival as a phrase AND a forum.
This just unlocked the ghost of LJ flame wars past from deep inside my brain
Reblogged seananmcguire
Iโm paying to force seven thousand strangers to see a photo of my late husband having fun with his dog. Tumblr Blaze is totally worth it. XD
Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. โค๏ธ
Reblog to have your dashboard be visited by the spirit of joy that death can end but not erase.
Love that this is well beyond 7000 people now and still going
@leavescrown Exactly! Itโs a beautiful gift. Martin and Bosco out there travelling around the Tumblr community, continually making new friends.
#hello again martin and bosco!! sending you boys round for another go :)
Reading your tag made me laugh out loud. Itโs like two old friends unexpectedly stopped by your porch for a quick visit. XD
Reblogged seananmcguire
A brief appreciation of Peter Falk in Columbo, by Joe Dator in The New Yorker
Reblogged bunjywunjy
Reblogged bunjywunjy
New Pathfinder character!! We finished our big campaign last fall and so we are starting a smaller sillier one! Meet Conan, my awakened Lamb Barbarian who is ALSO a werewolf.:3 You know, Wolf in sheep clothing and all that.XD
Reblogged seananmcguire
I have a deep fear of being known BUT I have a slightly larger fear of being forgotten. the best solution I can come up with is making art every once in a while
Reblogged heywizards
I think a lot of complaints about the lengths of TV show seasons are getting it backwards. Talky character-driven episodes where nothing happens aren't a benefit of longer seasons: they're the reason the 26-episode season was ever viable in the first place.
Episodes where everything happens on the same three previously constructed sets, all of the actors with major speaking roles are series regulars (except for the token alien of the week, who's played by the same recurring bit performer who's played five other roles this season in five different rubber noses), and there's no on-location shooting, choreographed fight scenes, or lengthy special effects sequences are very budget friendly, so you can have rather a lot of them.
Basically, you can have an eight-episode season where every single episode is a big hairy spectacle, or you can have a twenty-six episode-season where the premier, the finale, and a random two-parter somewhere in the middle are the only times a bunch of stuff blows up, and the rest of the time it's a sedate investigative-procedural-slash-office-comedy that happens to be set in space. You've gotta pick one!
Like, there's a reason a lot of classic sci-fi shows will spend forty minutes building up the baddie of the week, then at the end they just shoot him once with a toy laser gun, let him deliver a little parting monologue, and call it a day. Safely choreographing a real fight scene costs time and money, and there's no budget for punching.