“we live in an uncaring universe” yeah dude and I live in an uncaring house. and I shit in an uncaring toilet. but do you touch an uncaring lover? do you comfort an uncaring child? do you guide to sleep each night a cold and uncaring self?
"In the same way your heart feels and your mind thinks, you, mortal beings, are the instrument by which the universe cares. If you choose to care, then the universe cares. If you don't, then it doesn't." - Brennan Lee Mulligan, Fantasy High S1E17
Just saw a Barbie ad here for the first time. It is starting, folks. They must already be desperate if they're buying ad space on TUMBLR.
including (but not remotely limited to) Barbie. They are advertising here because their actors are on strike and will not promote their products.
Barbie is not a struck work. It is okay to reblog barbie content. It's done and finished. Going to premiers for it is crossing the line. But going to the regular ass movie is not.
Read me and read me good: not seeing Barbie is a great way to show execs that we don't care about writers and actors.
Let me say that again: going to see Barbie is GOOD for the strike. Many people who WORKED on barbie are striking. They probably have not been paid yet.
The unions HAVE NOT asked us to picket the movie. Just the premier.
The original post is disinformation.
I believe it to be coming from a good place but avoiding works that are NOT being struck is genuinely harmful to the cause.
If you love Tree Law, the beloved subreddit is open again. I highly recommend sorting by top/all time.
To clarify after some questions:
(American) Tree Law is very satisfying because the cases often involve someone damaging trees that don’t belong to them, usually for an aesthetic, mercenary, petty, and/or spiteful reason. However, American tree law comes down like a HAMMER on such people, and they will get mighty fines. If the tree dies, in fact, they’ll be on the hook to replace the whole thing, and as it turns out, trees ain’t cheap. As the article above summarizes one incident in Reddit terms:
To rephrase it as an AITA post: am I the asshole if I cut down 32 trees on my neighbor’s property, but instead of just charging me a $32,000 fine, now they’re going to make me build a road and find transplanted, equally mature trees to replant?
Tree Law is perhaps one of the few branches (I didn’t even mean that to be a pun) of American law where self-entitled wrongdoers WILL face consequences. NBC Universal wants to maul a row of city-owned ficus trees to deprive striking workers of shade during a heat wave? Oh boy.
How can anyone hate Junji Ito
I love when you recognize junji ito’s style and you read on not knowing if it’s going to be horrific or just cute cat stuff
Hey. Why isn’t the moon landing a national holiday in the US. Isn’t that fucked up? Does anyone else think that’s absurd?
It was a huge milestone of scientific and technological advancement. (Plus, at the time, politically significant). Humanity went to space! We set foot on a celestial body that was not earth for the first time in human history! That’s a big deal! I’ve never thought about it before but now that I have, it’s ridiculous to me that that’s not part of our everyday lives and the public consciousness anymore. Why don’t we have a public holiday and a family barbecue about it. Why have I never seen the original broadcast of the moon landing? It should be all over the news every year!
It’s July 20th. That’s the day of the moon landing. Next year is going to be the 54th anniversary. I’m ordering astronaut shaped cookie cutters on Etsy and I’m going to have a goddamn potluck. You’re all invited.
Hey. Hey. Tumblr. Ides of March ppl. We can do this
Hell yeah moon holiday
July 20: Moon Day.
You are worthy, you are enough, and you matter. No person or circumstance can ever change that or take that away from you. ❤️
I recently discovered laundry stripping and y’all, no matter how much of a crock of shit you think fast fashion is, you’re underestimating.
[image ID: a screenshot of the notes on this post, featuring several people indicating they want to know more. End ID.]
OKAY SO. You know how we talk about how one way fast fashion has made itself “necessary” is that the clothing looks like shit and feels horrible after just a few washes?
Let. Me. Tell. You. Something.
Laundry stripping is a process where you load your laundry into a tub or bin (I’ve been using my bathtub) with warm water, half a cup of borax, half a cup of washing soda, and half a cup of laundry soap (not detergent, SOAP, there’s a chemical difference). Leave it there for at least eight hours. I’ve been going for 12-24.
What you will come back to is a tub full of nearly-opaque black-gray-brown water that absolutely REEKS. This is normal. You are looking at (and smelling) hard water buildup, body sweat and oils that were embedded in the fabric, dead skin, and just regular grime.
Wring out your clothes. Throw them in the washer. (I like to do a spin-only cycle before going any further, because I have one of those washers that determines by weight how much water any given load needs.) Wash as usual.
You will notice I didn’t suggest any further pretreatment, and that’s because 1) you don’t want to layer too many chemicals on top of each other but also 2) you may not even need it.
When your clothes come out, check each one as it goes into the dryer, and if anything else s still stained, set it aside to run again with a regular pretreatment. One of the sweaters I did this with apparently did need a second treatment…to deal with what appears to have possibly been a hot chocolate stain that was previously invisible due to “well, it’s old” dinginess. I was planning to throw this sweater out. It looks almost new now. I need to wash it one more time for the probably-a-hot-chocolate stain, and then it needs to have the hem weighted to block it and bring it back to evenness, but dude. I wear my clothes to rags and I thought this thing was unfixable. “I need to reshape it” is nothing.
Remove clothes from dryer when done. Fucking MARVEL at the colors and how good the fabric feels. Give them a smell. Get righteously and royally angry that you can rejuvenate this stuff so easily, with a process that does take awhile but is 90% hands-off, but we’ve been trained to believe it’s all got to be binned once a year because discoloration and gross fabric is “normal wear and tear” and can’t be fixed.
It’s utterly unreal! I just pulled a seven-year-old work undershirt out of the dryer and this thing looks NEW!! It FEELS almost new!!! One of the shirts I hung up from the last load is older than some of the people on this site and it went from “I keep this to wear on laundry day, for sentimental reasons” to “I could actually wear this out of the house, it looks old but respectable”! The pajama bottoms I’m wearing were from Goodwill and they have BRIGHT YELLOW in them! I thought it was goldenrod!!
I do not know how often you’re supposed to do this (doing it every time can strip the dye out of your clothes, not to mention it’s way too much work to do every time), but once or twice per season seems respectable. I don’t wear white, so I can’t test the “it will make whites look almost-new as well” claim, but I’ve seen a lot of people on the cleaning subreddit attest that it works.
Just remember: WASHING soda. Not baking soda. I tried baking soda and a little bit happened, but not a lot.
Go forth. Rejuvenate your clothing. Strip your laundry.
I have a question about the "set it aside to run again with a regular pretreatment" bit: What is your regular pretreatment?
For grease: Dawn dish soap and a toothbrush.
For blood: soak in peroxide, rinse, apply more peroxide.
For ink: alcohol. Rubbing alcohol is best, vodka is an acceptable substitute. Do not use colored liquor like tequila or whiskey. Aerosol hairspray will work in a pinch.
For red wine or grape juice: white wine.
For "what the fuck is that, anyway?" stains: OxyClean Max Force Gel Stick.
For "oh shit, there was a red shirt in with my whites" stains: I'm very sorry. Try bleach?
Spot-apply all of these. In other words don't just toss your period panties into a sink full of peroxide, pour some peroxide over the crotch. Apply alcohol with a cotton facial pad or, failing that, a washcloth or kleenex.
Let it sit for five to fifteen minutes, then throw it in the wash. Try to use cold water; hot water will set stains.
oughhh I wanna say sumn abt spiderverse that might be a lil controversial and a lil spoilerly
spiderverse spoilers duh
oughhh I wanna say sumn abt spiderverse that might be a lil controversial and a lil spoilerly
spiderverse spoilers duh
Super fucked up! wtf is wrong with these people? #IamWithMili!
What is every little girl supposed to have long hair in a ponytail? So happy to see all of the support going her way.
Everybody remembers that we absolutely knew this would happen, right?
Like, trans people predicted this from the start. Everyone was SO SURE they could identify us on sight, and we said “If you run with that assumption you’re going face-first into a goddamn wall” and here we go.
It’s like people forget women with short hair exist.
In the six years that this has happened, Milli has continued to play soccer, is on track for joining a national team, and still keeps her hair short.
Read this and take it in.
Even if you have your papers.
Even if you are fortunate to have your gender match your sex.
Even if you were assigned feminine at birth.
They can still tell you to your face you’re not a woman if you don’t conform to a patriarchal standard of skinny Anglo with long hair.
They can just deny you for no reason at all.
THIS MAKES ALL THOSE SPORTS BANS LAWS USELESS AT PROTECTING CIS GIRLS! The very thing tbey were supposed to do!
Let’s get one thing right.
Sports bans, bathroom bans, ANY type of ban on trans people in public places were NEVER meant to protect cis girls or women or women’s sports or any of that crap.
They’re about control and forcing ALL people to conform to stereotypical gender norms and eradicating trans people in the process.
It’s (christo)fascism and genocide.
i have a real question. are prepubescent children even all that different athletically? i remember a lot of girls prior to the age of 12 or whatever when they started segregating the gym class, just kicking the shit out of the boys.
which isn’t to say that the crazy fascist transphobia isn’t already baseless. it just got me wondering, on a parallel track, if gender segregated sports even makes any sense at all for 8 year olds.
They aren’t that different. As a kid, there was a girl on my full contact, competitive, hockey team up until the age of 15 or 16 and she had a stronger thirst for violence than any of us.
girls basketball was always too intense for the 15 year old boys to play against
I love that phenomenon where ur talking to another neurodivergent person for the first time and u haven’t quite grocked their flavor of brain yet and they haven’t grocked yours and you’re both using your Acceptable Friendly Person Getting To Know You Script on each other but of course those scripts have been calibrated mainly for use with, like, normal people, so you just end up being like two conversational roombas bonking gently off one another like “hello fellow human” “hello fellow ‘hello fellow human’” until you both at some point manage to adjust your programming and actually like, communicate
It’s like when I was a kid I had two furbies and when you put them next to each other they’d just natter nonsensically past one another for a bit and then at some point one would abruptly recognize the other with its furby sensor or w/e and it would shout “DANCE!” and the other one would flap its ears and reply “HEY, DANCE” and then, in perfect unison, they would begin to rock back and forth while chanting “doot doot doo doot doot doo”
It’s exactly like that. I love it. Crazy people are the best, we are super excellent, i love us, i love crazy ppl
I wrote this post in my head while having a major dissociative episode in the bathroom and its the best and truest thing Ive ever said
Having your own personal blog is honestly quite a nice change of pace compared to Reddit. I could put a funny GIF of George Bush getting hit by a shoe on here and the worse case scenario is that no one even notices.
You put that on a big subreddit and you get your eyes gouged out and a heap of political discourse underneath your post.
YOU HEAR THAT EVERYONE??? I’M A LIL GECKO BOY
Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Perfect use of this site op. 10000 out of 10. Welcome to Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it 💖
“Mom, there’s someone under the bed.” You bend down and see your son there instead and he whispers “Mom that’s not me up there!” You take a step back when someone tugs your shirt. You turn, your son is in the closet asking “who are they?” You suddenly hear him calling from downstairs “Mommy?”
You sigh, raising your voice so that all of your sons can hear you. “All right, everyone into the kitchen. Now.” Hearing a shuffle in the attic, you add, “Yes, Duncan, that includes you.”
You don’t see any movement as you go down the stairs, but you’re used to that. You know they’ll all be there by the time you walk through the kitchen door.
As usual, your children have all fitted themselves into the kitchen. The dimensions of the room are a little wobbly with so many of them present, but you’ve long ago learned to ignore how the laws of physics only occasionally apply to them. A host of little faces look up at you anxiously, and you smile gently.
“It’s okay, none of you are in trouble,” you reassure them. They relax - and how astonishing is it, that they trust you so much? You’re so proud of their progress.
One, however, still looks nervous. You beckon him forward, and he comes reluctantly, shoved by his identical older brothers.
“Are you new?” you ask carefully.
He nods, and you drop to one knee. “It’s okay, sweetie,” you tell him firmly. “I love all of my sons, even ones I haven’t met before. Ask your brothers, they’ll tell you.”
“’m here because I heard you were nice,” he says in a tiny voice.
You open your arms, offering a hug but waiting to let him decide whether he wants one. This child must have seen hugs before, because he flings himself into your arms and starts crying. That’s good. Some of your sons are traumatised from what they’ve seen, knowing more slaps than kisses.
Eventually, the sobs dry up, your other kids patiently waiting for your attention again. “Why do we look like this?” he asks, curious.
“Because this is what the first of you looked like - Wilson, where are you?”
A hand raises from the crowd and waves energetically.
“Wilson took on my son’s form to play Child or Double. Calling from downstairs when my son was in bed, getting tucked in when the child I bore was playing out in the garden. Once I figured it out, I hugged him and told him that as far as I was concerned, I now had twins. It took him some time before he believed me.”
Wilson shrugs unrepentantly.
“When my son died, Wilson stayed. It helped, having one of my sons with me while I grieved. Then another of you began to turn up, and I had twins again. Then more. Until now, when I have more of you than will technically fit in my kitchen.” You give your sons a look of motherly disapproval, but they only giggle. They know you don’t mind.
“It’s not like you need to feed us!” calls out one of your bolder sons. Eric, probably. Your newest, unnamed child looks up hesitantly, then steps out of your arms to join his brothers. Lucas might be a nice name, you think idly. You don’t have a Lucas yet.
“That does help,” you admit. You put steel into your next words. “However, there are Rules in this house, and one of them is no messing around at bedtime. I know that bedtime is a traditional time for the Child or Double game, but four of you is pushing it.”
You’d say more, but there’s a knock at your back door. You turn to answer it, knowing that your sons will have evaporated before your fingers grasp the handle, and brace against the cold night air as you pull the door open.
Two identical little girls stand there. One has a bruise on her cheek, and has clearly been crying recently. The other - the other is a Doubler, just like your sons. After this long, you can tell the difference.
“Please,” the Doubler says, and her voice trembles on the word. “Please. She needs somewhere to stay.”
Part of you is shocked, already looking ahead to the potential legal issues. The rest of you is all mother, and you whisk her into the nice warm kitchen and get her a glass of water.
Your son’s bed will be occupied by someone else tonight. You think he’d have been okay with that.
msviolacea
There’s a post I’ve seen a couple of times on my dash that I agree with in general principle, but is too mean-spirited in its execution for me to reblog. But it’s making me feel the dreaded so-called fandom elder thoughts, so.
To paraphrase Men in Black, a fan is smart. A fandom is a herd of dumb animals. The larger the fandom gets, the dumber it gets as a collective. Which is true of pretty much any group of human beings, but this is the Fandom Place, so fandom is the topic. And it takes time and usually bad experiences to teach most people that your fandom experience is always going to be better the more you limit your circle. Which doesn’t mean you have to only ever interact with three people, but it does mean you should be wary when the community starts to swell at a rapid pace.
There’s euphoria in feeling like your love of a thing is validated. No one is immune to that euphoria, no matter how long they’ve been in fandom. The euphoria is half the reason we stay here for years, tbh. The problems always come when that (always temporary) euphoria is mistaken for a permanent state of being, or worse, a moral high ground.
Learn to curate your experience. And learn to look back on previous fandom experiences with nostalgia that doesn’t rely on rose-colored glasses. It was fun while you were there. It gave you what you needed for a time. And if there are still people there who are making their own lives (and others’) miserable because they don’t know how to be a reasonable human being, well, that’s sad for them, but it doesn’t erase what you got out of it.
