No matter what a post on tumblr tries to tell you, your moral and ethical stances will never be determined by what you reblog and what you scroll past. Don’t let manipulation tactics force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.
I find it very interesting to note the times in which this post has a sudden resurgence. It often follows very stressful, upsetting events, where a lot of “REBLOG THIS OR YOU SUCK” posts start appearing on this site.
So I’ll say it again: it is okay if you come to tumblr to escape upsetting news. It is okay if you’re just here for fun and fandom. It is okay if you do not want to use your tumblr as a place to read about or spread the current events that are circulating. It is okay if you need a place to decompress and just relax. There are other ways to be involved in/support causes and you are allowed to set boundaries on social media platforms without it being indicative of your belief systems.
Your beliefs, values, ethics, and moral stances are not determined by whether or not you reblog something.
I recently finished Apollo Justice and all I can think about is how Phoenix inherited Mia’s “figure it out” dialogue
Children please stop calling the slightest hint of sexual desire “gooning” I’m going to strangle all of you
🫵stop directly contributing to the growing anti sex sentiment
Have u considered that sexual activity is a natural part of the human experience rather than some invading wild animal which must be staved off and hidden in shame?
Source: genitals are a part of the human body
Also, I'm not usually a linguistic prescriptivist, but…
This fella picking up Popeye is a goon.
Or more commonly…these guys in the back? Goons.
We gotta give goons back their word
ALT
ALT
habitable exoplanet searching is so fun. humanity will not exist long enough to go there and it'll be countless generations to send a single message and countless more to receive one. but we look anyways :)
Whenever I tell people that I dream of playing as many versions of Cinderella’s stepsisters as possible, I have to mention the mildly deranged illegal production of Cinderella I was in when I was 12.
I used to go to this small drama camp as a kid that was entirely run by one nice lady, I believe named Carol. We would put on abridged minimalist versions of popular musicals at a local church with only one week of rehearsal. These weren’t licensable junior versions. Carol created them herself.
She wrote the scripts to include the major plot highlights and famous lines from the various musicals and she arranged and accompanied all of the songs on the piano herself. We did Annie, Mary Poppins, the Wizard of Oz, and, the year before I came, Peter Pan. These shows were definitely illegal, but they were so small that nobody really noticed, and they were a ton of fun. The camp was also extremely affordable, so nobody was getting rich off of it.
But Cinderella, my final production with them, was next-level. When I arrived for the first day of camp, I was curious to see if it would be the Disney version or the Rodgers and Hammerstein version.
It was both. And neither.
Carol somehow wrote an almost entirely original book for Cinderella that used the best songs from both the Disney and R&H versions. That meant that I, as a stepsister, got to sing the “Stepsisters’ Lament,” a peak song if you ask me, but adorable little kids playing mice also got to sing “Cinderelly, Cinderelly.”
The one thing about combining both versions is perhaps an overemphasis on the Fairy Godmother, because the songs “Bibbidy Bobbity Boo” and “Impossible” are both no-brainers to include. But somehow, things worked out perfectly there, too, by splitting the role.
See, we didn’t just have a Fairy Godmother.
We also had a Fairy Godfather.
I was 12, so I didn’t quite get the joke, but as an adult, I’m obsessed with the implication that Cinderella got her dress, slippers, and carriage through some kind of vague affiliation with the mafia.
Among the centuries’ worth of eggshells, prey remains, and natural nesting material, researchers identified 226 objects that were either made or altered by humans. These included weaponry like a crossbow bolt and wooden lance, decorated sheep leather, and parts of a slingshot.
Using carbon dating, the team determined that the items also had a huge age range. For example, a shoe made from twigs and grass is around 675-years-old, while a basket is estimated to have been woven about 150 years ago.
Beyond the manufactured relics of our species’ past, archaeologists also catalogued 2,117 bones, 86 hooves, and 43 eggshells. They even located 11 hair remains among the nesting layers. More analysis will provide a look into the surrounding area’s past environment, as well as its various flora and fauna.
I think it’s normal for people to be mad at each other sometimes even if they’re close friends or family or intimate with each other. Like I think that’s a normal and healthy part of relationships that can happen sometimes
“Why were you on Mad At Me island” because at the time I was mad at you and yet our friendship has weathered that without trouble
Declaw
i've been nice enough so far but i'm ngl it makes me feel so fucking crazy (bad) when people keep making this about actual literal declawing instead of engaging with my art in any meaningful way. i was a vet med student. i know declawing is bad. that's why i used it as a METAPHOR. please god engage with my art past the surface level themes. you people are continually showing that you'll care about an animal more than any autistic person which is hilarious because one of the themes for this piece is being treated as less than animal but whatever
OP, I just want you to know that I saw this done as a grade school style worksheet and felt seen for the first time in a really long time.
I remember being given one of these kinds of worksheets in school and all the little activities on it were about your life and hobbies and interests, a kind of ice breaking thing. I sat and happily doodled on the worksheet, completing the activities and being happy with my creation. It was about me! It was my style and my interests and the things that I liked and I even colored in all the art and I was super careful to color in the lines. I was so proud!
Then the teacher gathered them all up and read them aloud to the class without actually showing the papers, making us guess which sheet was from which classmate. She got to my paper and rolled her eyes. I didn't realize it was my paper until she got to the favorite color section, where I had written "red" in every single balloon the stick figure was holding, and she made sure to read each and every single one of them, with increasing exasperation and drama and annoyance, "red red RED reeeed rEd red red" and then sighed really big like it was a hardship to have done all that and asked the class whose paper they thought she was reading from.
No one guessed me. No one was actually very good at guessing who was who because it was a new class. But they all laughed really hard at the way she read my answer.
I hated the color red for years after that.
'Re-made in God's image: perfectly palatable, perfectly compliant' is exactly how it feels to be the neurodivergent tired of being singled out and picked on, willing to cut away all the natural parts of yourself not even to be accepted but to just be allowed to exist.
I've never told this story to anyone, but it's nice to share it now.
Thank you for creating something that resonates so deeply.