CONSTANTLY. I hate silence, I desperately hate silence, if there isn’t music playing then I’m probably humming, or singing, or talking, or muttering.
17: When was the last time you cried?
Let’s see…about a month ago. It had been a long day and I’d had a long shift and a creepy dude sat outside my workplace for over two hours staring inside at me and the two girls working with me until we had to call the cops, I have a long and nasty history with creepy dudes who think they have rights to stuff they do not at all have rights to, and that night after I’d managed to get to bed and come down off the adrenaline I cried. For me it was bursting into hysterical sobs, but for anyone else I think it would have looked like…mildly distressed sniffling. When I cry, it tends to be extremely quiet with very little in the tears department. My roommate says I cry like a movie star and that it’s not fair and honestly I don’t know what either of those things mean.
44: What’s the best part about school?
Having stuff to DO, Jesus Christ, I hate sitting around. Also I shamelessly enjoy feeling like I’m smarter than other people, largely because it’s very rare that I feel like I’m better at anything than anyone, so that’s nice too. (Insert that one part of Non-Stop here)
96: Don’t lie to me, was the last person you texted attractive?
Uh…the last person I texted, like proper texting, was my mom, soooo? I mean, yes, my mom is beautiful. But yeah. And the last person I texted for a more generous definition of texting was @twistedangelsays and while she is both STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL and TOTALLY BRILLIANT, not to mention being my very favorite conductor of light, I am not now and nor have I ever been into her. Our mutual lack of interest in dating each other is a great complaint of ours, our lives would be MUCH easier if we could just fall in love/lust and get married and never have to deal with dating anymore.
the worst part about being bilingual is being only like… moderately bilingual. like you can make conversation but you can’t like read articles and shit. or if you can understand but not respond. or if you only know enough to look impressive to a monolingual person, but you’re just pathetic to people who are native speakers lolol
BOTH RAMBUTANS AND AVOCADOES ARE BRILLIANT FRUITS AND THEY DONT DESERVE YOUR HATRED
i just to eat some avocado out of PURE SPITE
Okay, I G E T that avocados are some kind of a superfood and I just…like…canNOT get past how mushy they are, if you can more power to you. BUT RAMBUTANS HAVE HAIR??? I CANNOT. I DO NOT DO HAIRY FRUITS. LIKE. I DON’T EVEN LIKE PEACHES. EVEN ONCE THEY’VE BEEN PEELED. FRUIT SHOULD NOT HAVE HAIR, HAIR SHOULD BE AN ANIMAL-EXCLUSIVE OCCURRENCE.
my favorite thing about the cask of amontillado meme (which I LOVE) is that it displays, yet again, how difficult millennials on the internet are to predict. oh, giant company, you want your advertisement to go viral? well this week the kids are obsessed with a short story written in 1846 good fucking luck
oh my dear marketing man,you want me to explain how to track this? well, I could show you a chart that indicates the next five big memes. it is down in my basement, though it is quite cold, and surely you have another engagement to attend.
So in my research for my thesis, I learned a thing, and it’s not useful for my thesis so I’m posting it here instead.
Okay, so, everyone knows that the words canon and cannon are not synonyms, and if you’re like me it kind of makes your teeth grind when people talk about firing the canons or historical cannon. BUT HERE’S THE THING. The word canon is a direct lift from Latin, and it means law or rule. And so when heavy metal guns were developed and needed to be called something other than ‘that big murder machine over there’, the word cannon developed directly out of canon in the sense of “to lay down the law,” the same way Samuel Colt’s gun got called the Peacemaker. Likewise, ordnance comes directly from the Latin ordinance, which also got transferred directly into English as another synonym for ‘rule.’
And that is your totally useless historical fun fact of the day.
Hmmm, do we have a source for this? Because according to Etymonline, cannon is related to cane, roughly means “tube”, and goes back to Latin canna (reed).
Etymology is a vast and complex field, and it’s of course possible that Etymonline is only reporting one of several purported derivations, but he’s usually really good at listing various theories and I’ve never heard this one before soo….
(similarly, ordinance as in weaponry seems to come from the notion of organising it in an armoury)
Yes I do, but the page presenting the theories (although well-cited and reputable to the best of my research, and as this thesis is what’s going to dictate whether I get a BA I’m being rather choosy) is about three hours of reading. It’s about halfway through, and if you want to Ctrl-F it you can just search ‘Peacemaker’. I suppose a better way to phrase it would be that, yeah, cannon is related to canna for ‘reed’ but was introduced with significantly strong associations to bind it to the word canon on an implicit level. This is, generally speaking, why I don’t write posts while distracted late at night–ADHD doesn’t play well with those things if I’m trying to be coherent and weird connections start to appear. And now that it’s a respectable hour I’m kind of wondering how I even managed grammatical sentences.
I have bipolar mood disorder and I get worried that I’m too reliant on my medication especially if the dosage goes up
Then I realized
NEUROTYPICAL PEOPLE ARE JUST AS RELIANT on the neurochemicals in my medication, it’s just that their bodies produce it and mine doesn’t, it’s not that I’m a bad person and idk this realization seems to have really helped me understand and not feel so bad about it?
The New York Times’ response to Trump’s attempted cease-and-desist letter is literally just NYT attorney David E. McCraw slammin 2 shots of scorpion vodka, leaping onto a table w/ a death’s-head grin & eyes ablaze and yelling “Do it, my guy!!! Haha, DO IT!!!!!” as X Gon Give It To Ya thumps over the sound system and I for one couldn’t be happier
Mangoes have a weird-ass flavor and texture, and FURTHERMORE, they’re like 93.56% pit and therefore a huge pain in the ass. In the hierarchy of fruit they rank slightly above fruit with hair and avocados, ie not in the edible range.
“I love the tune of this song but hate the gross lyrics. What should I do?”
“But I like both old and new songs”
“I also like polka?”
This man is a treasure.
Weird Al:
1. Is very cautious about the effect of his works, apologizing whenever he does something even a tiny bit offensive on accident.
2. Asks for permission from the creators of the songs he parodies, even though he legally doesn’t have to.
3. Is a straight-up genius; he skipped two grades and graduated at 16 the valedictorian of his class. He went to CalTech.
4. Is often upset by the fact that any parody of any song is usually mistakenly attributed to him, espeically the dirty ones because he’s careful to keep his music safe for all ages.
5. Is a genuine A+ human being, 10/10 would recommend.
Circumstances tend to be the same, in each lifetime—relationships
between parents, number of siblings, sometimes even place of birth. No one’s sure why. A pretty woman fallen from lofty social
status, a wandered-off man, an older brother.
If that’s the lot you drew at your first birth, it’s likely to be the
one you land the second-third-fourth time around.
The illness hits Christiansted earlier, this time. Andre Westen is seven, his brother and father
already gone. Last time, his mother got
the worst of it—this time, it’s Andre who’s shaking and sick for two weeks, his
gaunt and recovering mother clinging to his hand. He lives, though, and when he opens his eyes
after the fever breaks, the first thing out of his mouth is, “I’m going to need
to change my name.” There are conditions
in place, laws and qualifiers that allow people to claim their past selves if
they prefer and can prove it. And Andre does prefer, and can prove it. He’s young for
such a powerful revelation—he can recite the names of teachers and colleagues,
list details down to the minute, and with so little under his belt of this life,
that one seems just as immediate—and it unnerves people to hear him wander from
speaking like a child to speaking like a grown man when he’s distracted, but
they give him his name.
people who complain about dinosaurs “not being scary anymore” because its been discovered they have feathers and are closely related to/ancestors of birds are so bizarre like
its not about how scary they are, they are/were real life animals and what matters is learning more about them, not how well they fit into your science fiction horror film lol
can you imagine a 13 foot chicken running at you with full intent to eat you??? thats fucking terrifying holy shit
peacocks are synonymous with vain, frivolous beauty and they will attack cars. they will attack you while you try to get to your car. they’re like six feet of useless feathers and they will destroy you. imagine if they were carnivorous and had functional spurs.
a t-rex could look like a gay disco ball and i guarantee that you would fucking book it if it had a problem with you
listen
listen
have you ever met a swan
if anything the birdier they get the scarier they are
Australia literally fought a war against giant birds AND FUCKING LOST
“Oh man, I can’t deal with birds ‘cause they’re dinosaurs and sometimes it’s like they get this glint in their eyes and they remember.”
“Have you ever interacted with a goose? ‘Cause those things are dicks.”
If chickens were still the size of a T-Rex we’d all be dead. No question.
Feathered creatures that give some serious lie to the idea that feathered dinosaurs ain’t scary:
This is a bearded vulture, or lammergeier. It’s four feet long and has a nine foot wingspan and it eats bones.
This is a shoebill stork. It dropped the duck without biting down shortly after the picture was taken, but if it had decided not to-
… it could have been the end of the road for that duck.
This is the last thing a fish sees before a macaroni penguin eats it.
This is a secretary bird in the act of demonstrating to Lord Voldemort that he came to the wrong neighborhood, ese.
This is a goose.
This is a vulture.
This is a cassowary on the attack.
Be glad I couldn’t find the actual gif of a pelican swallowing a fish, because it’s freakin’ Lovecraftian in its HEADS SHOULD NOT BEND THAT WAY factor. You’ll have to settle for the idea of a feathered dinosaur suddenly going GLORP and devouring its victims whole just like this lady here.
Steven Spielberg didn’t create these. These are the feet of an emu.
And this is what happens when a swan (this one is named Asboy; his father was Mr. Asbo, the first swan in the UK to get named after an anti-social behavior order in ‘honor’ of his tendency to attack boaters) decides it doesn’t like you. I should probably note that this one attacked a cow.
Respect the feathered dinosaur, yo.
Terrifying. The last two illustrate why you did not fuck around with the Children of Lir.
I love the headcanon that Ben Organa Kylo Ren is really only a good-to-middling Force-user in his own right. He doesn’t wield the raw power of Anakin Skywalker, or have Luke’s familiarity with and awareness of the Force as a living entity; the dreams and intuitive knowledge that characterize Leia’s relationship with the Force are mostly the intervention of Snoke, or Ben’s own luck. He’s good, but not remarkable, and especially considering he’s a Skywalker.
(He’s just the only game in town and has worked hard to keep it that way, hence his shock at discovering Rey can kick his ass with both hands tied and absolutely no training whatsoever.)
But you know what Kylo Ren is excellent at? Sparking Force-sensitivity in others.
It’s not even a conscious ability. But all he had to do was stare searchingly at Finn across the ruins of Tuanul and suddenly—There has been an awakening, have you felt it? He rummages around in Rey’s skull and then she’s pushing back. He’s holed up with the remainder of the First Order armies in the wake of Starkiller, and Elevens is having dreams about an old man and the desert, and Howler can make things levitate and Lieutenant Crimmons almost choked out General Hux that one time.
(”By accident!” Crimmons exclaims from between bloodless lips. “It was an accident, I’m not even sure how I—please don’t space me, sir.”
Hux wheezes. Ren wheezes too, but that’s the noise the vocoder always makes when he laughs.)
It gets worse when he’s captured by the Resistance after the Battle of Dalujj, because for whatever reason—you know the reason, don’t be an idiot, Rey snaps as she snaps the binders around his wrists—there are far more latent Force-users affiliated with the Resistance than the First Order. With Kylo Ren in a cell, Luke is suddenly barraged by pilots and ops and intel officers who don’t understand why they can suddenly hear each other thinking, or communicate wordlessly across the base.
But the best part is how much this twists Kylo Ren up inside because he’s so godsdamn proud of all his new padawans (I am not your student, what the fuck, Finn says, looking deeply disturbed) but also……if they could stop being better than him in all things?
The thing is, if Donald Trump loses by even one vote we’ll be safe for now, but if he loses by a LANDSLIDE, we could be safe for a very very long time.
If he loses by a small margin, then hooray! Everyone who is queer, a person of color, disabled, neuroatypical, poor, and/or a woman is safe! I’m not being sarcastic, that would be fucking wonderful, holy shit. We would be
saving our country and ourselves from 4-8 years with Donald at President as well as another lifetime with a majority conservative republican government. That’s a big win.
But if he ONLY loses by a small margin, the message that sends to all the people who agree with him is that all they have to do to become president of the United States in the future is be SLIGHTLY less of a publicly raging racist, xenophobic, islamophobic, queerphobic, ableist, misogynistic, sex offender than Donald fucking Trump.
Bigots would not be discouraged, or learn. They would just be bitter, and bide their time.
If he loses by a fucking LANDSLIDE, however, then maybe they’ll actually learn that emulating his views and behavior WILL NOT earn them power.
In conclusion: even if you think he stands no chance of winning, PLEASE STILL VOTE. Maybe your vote will be the one vote that keeps him out of office, but even if he would have technically lost either way, even if they start calling it early because he’s losing by a large margin, PLEASE STILL GO OUT AND VOTE.
So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather?
What if several species (including humans) land on a world and the humans are all “SCORE! Earth like world! Let’s get exploring before we get out competed!” And the planet starts offing the other aliens right and left, electric storms, hypothermia, tornadoes and the humans are just … there… counting seconds between flashes, having snowball fights, and just surviving.
To paraphrase one of my favorite bits of a ‘humans are awesome’ fiction megapost: “you don’t know you’re from a Death World until you leave it.” For a ton of reasons, I really like the idea of Earth being Space Australia.
Earth being Space Australia
Words cannot express how much I love these posts
Alien: “I’m sorry, what did you just say your comfortable temperature range is?”
Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”
Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”
Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.”
Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”
Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”
Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”
Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.”
Alien: “……. We’ve got like 50 uninhabitable planets we think you might enjoy.”
crazy that i’m only able to see life through my own eyes.. there’s over 7 billion other perspectives i’ll never be able to have.. over 7 billion stories i won’t ever be able to fully know. we all get such a small slice of the experience of life.. pass by strangers every day that we’ll never be aware of. what are they going through? what are they thinking about? i always wonder..
angel: youre so angry all the time i think you should get a hobby god: how about boating. Hows that for a hobby angel: sure. boating sounds fine god: aight *looks down towards earth* hey Noah i have an idea noah: is it a good idea god: it’s an idea
My therapist just told me that I “use humor to cover up past trauma so I don’t have to deal with it” and that “it will take years of extensive therapy to genuinely recover from it all” and I literally burst out laughing and finger gunned @ him
There’s a line of thought regarding the faking of the moon landing which goes like “isn’t it CONVENIENT that we landed on the moon in the last year of the decade when we said we’d land on the moon, doesn’t it seem suspicious that it came so close to the wire,” which I have to assume is reasoning put forward by people who have far better study habits then I do, because if I was tasked with landing a man on the moon by the end of the 60s, we’d 100 percent have launched on December 30, 1969.
Holy shit, Firebringer, it's been years since I read that! But my reputation with my third grade teacher was "the girl who recommended a book to the class that included a deer eating the heart of a human child and consequently terrified a bunch of kids." (...I too have always been me.) And The Sight--I too had a very weird sort of crush on the Jesus-wolf's brother...I read a lot of books with animals who were unsubtly Jesus.
OMG. I definitely 100% forgot that there was a scene with a deer eating the heart of a human child in Firebringer, but I definitely read it around the same age–so apparently that didn’t faze me either, LOL.
The jesus wolf’s brother was one hot wolf, you could just tell. Also, dang, what’s with that genre? The “imagine jesus as an animal in a society of talking thinking animals” genre?
• gunpowder & lead - miranda lambert (abuser is shot to death)
• independence day - martina mcbride (abusive husband/father is burned alive in house which wife/mother set on fire to protect her daughter)
• blown away - carrie underwood (abusive father left to die in a tornado by daughter on purpose)
• two black cadillacs - carrie underwood (cheating man killed by wife and mistress who then pretend to be sad at his funeral)
• church bells - carrie underwood (abusive husband poisoned by wife)
• goodbye earl - dixie chicks (abusive husband killed by two women, one he abused and her best friend)
• mama’s broken heart - miranda lambert (implied revenge against abusive boyfriend despite narrator’s mother’s advice)
please, tell us more about your horsemen of the apocalypse.
*maniacal laughter*
You have made a BAD MISTAKE, my buddy, my guy, because now here are 1600 words about this novel. More stuff is here in the tag.
Right, so, remember how I write novels when I’m
pissed off about stuff? Like…I got pissed off about the lack of happy
F/F ships with superpowers and wrote a novel about that. And I was pissed
off about misuse of all-powerful sorcerers (Merlin, I am cranky about the show
Merlin), and I wrote a novel about that. And I was pissed off about use
of psychic powers and Antichrists and Apocalypses (*glowers at SPN*) and I
wrote Falls the Shadow, this novel. Kind of by accident. Like.
I meant to write a fifteen, maybe twenty, page thing playing with the
idea of a character who had visions of the Apocalypse. Smash cut to eighteen
months and 250K words later…
So yeah. The basic premise of this novel
is that Sam Lightworth and her older brother Oz have been the best hunters in
the country since they were kids, until it came to light during a hunt when she
was fifteen that Sam has precognitive dreams. Since most hunters don’t
really have a concept of grey areas (such as a human girl with visions of the
future) Oz takes the logical solution of getting his baby sister the fuck out
of the life before someone can kill her. Cut forward a year and a half,
Sam’s been in hiding at a boarding school and, for the first time in her life,
she has something like a normal life, with a normal friend (Kit), and normal
demands on her life. She hates it. When her brother turns up, bloody and
battered and bearing news of their dad’s death, it’s the best thing that’s
happened to her all year. So she and Oz
leave, with Kit in tow. They also pick
up Michael, an old…friend who met Sam exactly once when they were both
kids. She broke his arm and he cracked
four of her ribs. Naturally that…happens. The majority of the plot rotates around Sam,
Michael, Oz, and Kit learning about their places as the Four Horsemen.
