I’m watching the Republican debate and Trump oh m y go dddd
“I’ve been in politics my whole life, just on that side.” *points to audience*
Yeah Trump I’ve been a doctor all my life just on that side *points to the patient waiting room*
I can’t f ucking believe. Rand Paul called him out on insulting people for petty things, like a middle schooler, and Trump’s response.
“I don’t recall ever attacking you on your looks, and there’s a lot to talk about there.”
????????????????
“Trump you insult people on superficial things.” “No I don’t also you’re ugly.”
He unironically suggested we let ISIS and Syria kill each other off
Is this–Is this Jurassic World?!?
Donald Trump drinking game: take a drink every time Trump answers a complex, important political question with–
The world doesn’t respect Obama
The world doesn’t respect America
We need to be great again
I’d do it but I don’t wanna die. Someone else take me up on it.
“I respect women.” –Donald Trump
“Look at that face. Would anyone vote for that?” –Donald Trump, about the one woman Republican candidate.
How did this callous lizard man crawl out of the swamp and slither into a suit. Who let this melty slug flop its way onto stage. Isn’t there security at these things?
“I want to build a wall. We have a lot of really bad dudes in this country. They’ve got gangs all over the place.”
I know 12-year-olds more politically informed than this.
“We have to have assimilation! In America we speak English!!”
-lies down- -lies down and cries- -rocks back and forth crying-
Trump, aiming to be surgeon general “Disease is bad! We have to go back to a time when disease wasn’t ravaging this country! Obama let disease happen. I won’t stand by and let Obama turn American into this!”
Trump, aiming to be a Supreme Court judge, “Lawlessness is ravaging this country! Crime is so high! We need to stop judges from letting illegal things happen! Obama did this.”
Trump, aiming for any highly specified and vitally important position, “Vague general angry statement! Blaming Obama! More vague angry noises! I hate women!”
“Autism has become an epidemic…I want smaller doses (of vaccines) over time… You take this little beautiful baby and you pump in–it looks like it was meant for a horse!”
oh god. oh god oh god ho god oh go do goh og do goh ogod ghog dso gooh god
He said. He said. Let’s not vaccinate our kids because needles are scary. The vaccines. Look scary. Don’t put needle in smol baby. Scary. I don’t
“The BEST action movie ever made” I scoff; as I read the only review on the front of the Mad Max Fury Road DVD. That’s a bold claim; I think to myself …I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO WRONG. AND I HAVE NEVER READ A REVIEW SO RIGHT.
So I’ve been seeing this post floating around Tumblr about how Harry should have retrieved the Resurrection Stone and imagine how wonderful it would have been for the characters to have closure with their loved ones and how beautiful and emotionally satisfying and and and… heart-wrenching stuff.
But… that’s completely not what the Resurrection Stone does.
The Stone is a liar, designed by Death to draw people away from life. The Second Brother literally goes insane from the image of his lost love, and kills himself to join her in death. And if you don’t believe the fairy tale (heh), look at what happens when Harry uses the Stone: Yes, his mother, father, Sirius and Remus appear, but they lure him to death. They literally encourage him to walk to his supposed grave. What does StoneLily say? “You’ve been so brave”. Compare that to the urgency of Goblet of Fire’s ShadowLily. Do they seem quite the same? Does it seem quite like Remus to be so passive in the face of dying before getting to know his son? Or for Sirius to encourage anyone to simply accept their death lying down?
Time and again, J. K. Rowling has emphasized the importance of “moving on” in the context of death. Think about it. Harry has another experience with the memories of his parents which nearly derails him - the Mirror of Erised. The Stone - which creates a far more tangible memory and far more dangerous allure - is devastating by nature. It’s not heartwarming or romantic or sweet. Frankly, I’m baffled that we would forget such a critical part of the Stone’s mythology. It is no less a murder weapon than the Elder Wand. It simply kills in a more roundabout way.
In Finland, speeding tickets are calculated based on your income - causing some Finnish millionaires to pay fines of over $100,000. Source
This is what “equality” looks like in that liberal fairy tale land of Finland. They punish you proportionately to how successful you are. Sounds really “fair.”
Except… it is fair? Because it’s proportionate. I don’t get what’s difficult about that. An impoverished person paying $400 dollar fine isn’t the same as a millionaire paying the same amount. For the poor person, $400 dollars could mean starving. Would you really claim it would have the same consequence for a rich man? Would it even be noticeable to him, while the absence of food in their stomach would be glaring to a poorer man? Would it be fair for a man to starve for the same crime as a man that would be having a three course meal?
By taking income into account, it allows the impoverished able to still survive while paying any fines they may incur. And, ultimately, while $100,000 dollars would be noticeable to a millionaire, they would still get by. And, assuming the law is properly implemented, they would be paying the same equivalent of their yearly income that a poorer person would. That’s what makes it fair. They would be impacted the same way - but you are looking at the amount rather than the equation.
Also, it’s important to make sure that even the rich would pause at the cost of a fine. They need to fear the law just as a poor man does.
Also, it’s important to make sure that even the rich would pause at the cost of a fine. They need to fear the law just as a poor man does.
Also, it’s important to make sure that even the rich would pause at the cost of a fine. They need to fear the law just as a poor man does.
Also, it’s important to make sure that even the rich would pause at the cost of a fine. They need to fear the law just as a poor man does.
Yep. Had enough of a system where the rich can just buy their way out of punishments, and still end up paying a proportionately smaller penalty.
Before this, historians could only link 22 of the presidents to King John. Professional genealogists had only traced the male family lines, but
BridgeAnne
was able to link all but one of the presidents together using both male and female ancestry.
Sometimes it feels like beautiful
is the party of the year, and I wasn’t invited
(but I went anyway).
And inside, the baseline pulses
with my heartbeat and there are all these
perfect mouths: open and laughing
in the strobing darkness.
A boy who is all sharp jaw and white teeth
settles in behind me, hands on my hips,
close enough to kiss–
he leans in, licks his lips, says:
Sorry. I thought you were somebody else.
The joke
is that I am always trying to be
someone else.
It’s a magic trick, and
I haven’t gotten the hang of it, yet.
But it is a chore to love this body.
And on the days I do love it,
I usually don’t like the person inside of it.
I used to joke that all my sex appeal
instantly disappears the minute I open
my mouth.
I don’t say that anymore,
because that’s a shitty thing to say about yourself.
But the point still stands
that I feel helplessly awkward
being the person that I am.
Sometimes, I think my heart is actually
that sweet, pale pink you find
in babies’ bedrooms:
an organ made, not of blood, but
of the compressed powder from
a makeup compact. Softly blushing.
Given to crumble.
Sometimes I think that I’m only loud
so you won’t see how bad I’m shaking.
All this bravado to make up for the fact
that I am inherently fragile.
All these panic attacks dressed up as poetry,
just cries for help, desperately begging you
to love me.
You have no idea how many years I have been
second choice.
Imagine, being nobody’s first priority:
the one who’s left but never the one who leaves.
Trust me when I say, I know what it means
to keep swallowing pride
just to give your heart something
to eat.
Because when you don’t feel worthy,
you’ll take anything.
In the aftermath,
I stitch my body up with
one night stands and stolen kisses.
I write myself into my own story
as the villain, because I feel like
a poor excuse for a hero.
I keep collecting compliments in a jar
on the bedside table, hoping that maybe
if the jar gets full
I might finally be able to believe them.
It is hard to believe the people telling you
you are beautiful
when there is so much evidence to the contrary:
when there is so much unrequited love,
an entire childhood full of bullying,
when the ones who kiss you are
never the ones who stay.
So today
I am rebuilding what it means
to feel beautiful.
Today, beautiful is
knees covered in sidewalk chalk.
Today, beautiful is
hands riddled with paper cuts.
It’s bitten nails and bedhead.
Beautiful
is a warm cup of coffee and
someone to share it with.
Today, beautiful is something tangible:
something that I can get
and I can give
and I want all of you
to have it.
so apparently “asexual reproduction” is no longer the preferred scientific term, so if anyone makes a sponge joke or whatever just scream “IT’S AGAMETIC KNOW YOUR SCIENCE” and throw a textbook at them
