we justifiably give Biden a lot of shit but I think “at least 3” is the funniest possible response to some right wing dipshit asking you how many genders there are
“Some guy a few houses down barricaded himself in his house with an assault rifle. Fortunately, they got him (or he gave himself up) without any shots fired or anyone getting hurt.” - SgtScheisskopf
No protected person may be punished for an offense he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.
This technically counts, as students are civilians, and thus considered a “protected person”. So yes, collective classroom punishment breaks the fourth Geneva Convention, and she should be rewarded for standing up for human rights and doing her research.
Sure thing! For convenience I’ll refer to the guy with his arms in his pockets as SG (shorter guy) and the one on the computer as TG (taller guy).
In the first panel, SG sees TG playing on the computer and is disappointed. SG puts a lot of value in the idea of “making things,” specifically “art,” and thinks TG is just wasting their time
So he asks them if they wouldn’t rather be “making something” instead of just playing games and listening to music, implying that TG isn’t doing anything worthwhile or creative with their time
But TG replies that “interpreting is generative,” meaning that even if they spend their time just doing fun stuff, the mere act of enjoying something is creating an experience and an interpretation. Talking about something, dancing to music or sharing a piece of art with your friends IS “making something,” and each of those can be worthwhile and artistic.
SG leaves, complaining he “can’t be an auteur of [interpretation].” Auteur is a movie term that refers to a filmmaker with artistic control and vision enough to be considered essentially the singular creator of the resulting work of art. Turns out, SG doesn’t just want to “make things,” he wants to make things he and others see as “important.” He wants to make art not for the sake of art, but for the sake of being recognized and praised for his art.
This comic really speaks to elitism within the artistic community, the idea that art needs to meet certain standards to be considered art. SG’s viewpoint is really traditionalist, that art need to be “approved” and validated in order to be considered “really art;” while TG recognizes that art can be as little as just talking about what you love.
TLDR: Art is for everyone, not just some sort of social “artistic elite.”
Polls don’t allow for nuance, but please answer as closely as you can to your most common feeling when going to health clinics/hospitals. DISABLED FOLKS ONLY PLEASE (this goes for chronic pain & physical, cognitive, intellectual disabilities etc.)
if you feel comfortable please share your choice as well as whether you have ever experienced medical malpractice
not to be that person but please consider reblogging this, my tumblr don’t have a ton of traffic and i’m genuinely interested in the results.
also please do my other related polls if you’re queer, trans, and/or disabled/have chronic pain:
neurodivergence/neurotypical healthcare poll
It took me a decade to be diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis because I’m seronegative (I don’t produce the antibodies they test for) and so I don’t test positive for rheumatoid factor. It was actually a medical STUDENT who suggested seronegative rheumatoid arthritis during one of my appointments she was sitting in that got me my diagnosis finally.
I had been suffering with these symptoms since childhood, being dismissed as a hypochondriac the point I was almost convinced I was just weak and everybody lives in this much pain.
it took twenty five years to get diagnosed with EDS, only happened after i figured out what was wrong finally, and there is absolutely zero follow up treatment or care
i have this disease called i will open your message and get distracted and forget to reply and then the notification will be gone so i will not have replied for ages and you will think i am ignoring you but. i am not. it’s incurable
Tumblr staff: ten options is enough for polls, right? No one needs more than that on a regular basis. The average tumblr user: Hey guys which element of the periodic table do you think is the most fuckable?
You pay very close attention your body because it doesn’t know how to lie to you, and pay very little attention to your mind because it is lying to you all the time
Pog as slang comes from the twitch emote, taken from a video with pogs in them. What is a pog? A small cap from a juice drink that is traded and used in games by 90s kids. The juice drink was called POG, short for passion fruit orange guava. Passion fruit was named after its flower, the passion flower. Passion flowers were called “flower of the five wounds” in Portuguese, eventually being translated as passion fruit by the English in reference to the passion of Jesus, aka his last moments alive before being crucified.
I love history, language, words, communication, and humans.
Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.
Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy
because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband
was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But
she longed for children.
She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but
no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and
followed all their advice, but no child came.
So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown
woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest,
to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into
the old well there, and she wished for a child.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice,
a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it
together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”
She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I
know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may
set conditions.”
“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there
was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What
condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”
“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her
head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or
passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be
hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”
“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a
hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test
there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into
her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The
hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat
this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes
straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate,
plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You
will have what you ask for.”
gotosweep
goomba-oasis
