is it a hot take to say that i think you need to understand why something is bad, not just that it simply is?

this is a part of the problem

you need to be able to explain why you shouldnt use ai rather than “oh well its obviously bad and you shouldnt use it or else youre a bad person” because that isn’t logic. “ai generates child porn based off of real children and whether or not it does is entirely up to how it is built and if pedophiles are able to find ways around those safeguards, because ai cannot in itself discern right from wrong” is a genuine criticism. “amazon tried to build a data center the size of tuson outside of tuson just to power their ai that would’ve increased the inability to stay alive outside in parts of arizona” is a genuine criticism. even “using generative ai teaches you not to learn how to do things yourself even when they’re difficult, devaluing necessary skills out of practice” is a genuine criticism when you look at the amount of people who think they are able of doing a difficult major when they couldnt write their own papers in high school.

but “ai is just bad because it’s bad” will convince no one and is a morally lazy position to take. about anything!

you need to know why reading someone’s diary is wrong if you want to learn about privacy and respect. you need to know why child sexual assault is wrong if you want to be able to help children form healthy age appropriate relationships. you need to know why capitalism is bad if you want to replace it with something else. you need actual concrete ideas and ideologies rather than “you should agree with me because i have the right vibe”

so i'm no huge fan of rideshare and delivery apps, but this? this post?

completely fake. the article linked above thoroughly debunks it.

why do americans think everyone on the internet lives in the same place as them. just saw someone say honeybees are "not native". not native to where????? the entire planet?????

perhaps a hot take but using “migraine” as a stand in word for “headache” is like saying you’re so ocd because you like organized spaces

Too much movement makes your joints hurt and too little movement also makes your joints hurt. This would imply that there's an optimal amount of movement that allows your joints to not hurt. This is a lie.

"Block this ad" isn't good enough, I need a feature that directly tells the company "this was so shit that it lowered my opinion of your product"

So many people are wanting Langdon realizing that Whitaker is Robby's new favorite/protégé (I am too!) but what about the rest of the crew

10 months is a long time

There could be a scene where Donnie's showing off baby pics to his coworkers and Langdon finds out he had a kid. A dad himself he would of course want to talk about it with him. Then Whitaker walks by and Donnie thanks him for babysitting/shower gift/picking up some of his shifts. Which causes Langdon to realize Dennis knew before him. May have even met the kid before him

Or where both Langdon and Whitaker are covering a trauma case that needs a surgery consult so Garcia comes in. She calls Whitaker white chocolate again. Langdon whose looking down at the patient, thinks its at him. So he thinks finally someone who isn't walking on eggshells around and, or treating him like normal. He goes to say something back but Whitaker beats him to it and then suddenly they're ribbing at each other like they used to do.

Can you imagine the angst potential of him realizing the rest of the pitt crew has moved on too?

Have you guys noticed how much the internet/technology just does not listen to you anymore? I click “don’t show this artist” on Spotify and I get recommended a music video by them on the front page. I click “skip this update” on a pop up every time I open a file organization app and it’s right back there every time. I click unsubscribe on a newsletter and it keeps showing up in my inbox!! I click “delete my account” and the next time I open the website they suggest I “reactivate”.

You can't leave this in the tags it's too good

Because I absolutely love joan_de_art’s sustainable city series I’mma share it in one post since I see the art scattered about.

I and some other sewists and fiber artists were featured in Teen Vogue recently!! It’s really wild seeing how my tiny little punk sewing circle has been reaching people around my city :) You can read the article here!!! I wanted to talk a bit more about my reasoning for doing this stitch ‘n’ bitch event on tumblr since i get a lot of inspiration here. :3

I’ve been hosting a monthly Stitch ‘n’ Bitch crafting circle since August of 2024. I haven’t quite hit a year yet, but it has been a blast so far!! Every month I bring sewing supplies (scrap cloth, needles, thread, embroidery floss, scissors, pins, buttons, other shit i can get my hands on), zines, and my own DIY mending know-how and attitude to help people mend their clothes. We set up in a local DIY punk record shop in Denver, CO, with help and promotion from Aliyah Wallace and her local art club meetup group, Artists in Sync.

I’ve been on tumblr for fandom stuff for a minute, but it’s really only been since 2021 that I got into visible mending and solarpunk. I’ve been really inspired by the solarpunk and visible mending communities on tumblr. In particular, I’ve gotten a lot out of following @wastelesscrafts , @solarpunkactionweek , @solarpunkani , @mossyvida , @fennopunk , @obsob @mildmayfoxe @claypigeonpottery @plantyhamchuk @theenbyroiderer and probably a whole bunch of other people i’ve been quietly following but not saying anything to for four years. Not everyone listed here may consider themselves ‘solarpunk’ per se, but they’re people who’ve inspired my art and my desire to share a better world with my community.

I get to make and sell cool textile art, but what I really love is being able to show people how to do stuff like this. All of these embroidery stitches are fairly simple (if repetitive), most of these were made with hand-sewing, and all of it comes from thrifted materials. It also looks pretty cool!!! I like wearing clothing that I made just for me, and I know it’s something that would make other people feel great about their clothes and their body.

If your clothes are falling apart, it is not your fault a million times over - the push for more clothing, more styles, more trends, at faster rates, all for more and more of a profit has destroyed the quality of our garments. Fabrics are made of plastic and made poorly to boot. The people working in sweatshop clothing factories are being forced to turn out products faster and faster, with no real increase in pay, benefits, or ability to add the kinds of finishings that make clothes last longer. You’re overworked and underpaid, and it’s easier to buy new clothing than it is to try to eke out time in your jam-packed day to fix the holes in your shirt. It’s easier to keep you trapped in that shitty job if you don’t know your neighbors, if you are constantly trying to hold your life together under solely your own power (or maybe yours and that of a partner, if you’re lucky). It’s easier to miss the effects of the clothes you wear and discard because they are quietly shuffled away from you.

I started to learn how to embroider because embroidery floss is cheap, frequently boldly colored, easier for my sweet sweet nearsighted eyes to see, and it produces the kind of free-form, messy art I love. I was hooked into visible mending VERY soon after beginning my embroidery journey because hey! I can put art on my clothes! Why would I not want more of that? It was an act of caring for myself and my loved ones - I want that sweater you love to be with you longer, I want to put little flowers and suns and butterflies on your clothes for you, I want those jeans that makes your ass look awesome to last for another decade. I don’t want to buy new underwear. I CANNOT AFFORD TO BUY NEW UNDERWEAR.

But my clothes are mine: I have little pieces of evidence of my love for myself and my clothes on more and more of my wardrobe. The pre-distressed overall shorts I found now have autumnally-colored vines chasing up and down the patches I added. The boxer briefs I got when I got rid of all my old girl clothes and replaced them with something that made me feel at home in my body are still with me, with colorful little darns overlapping. The first band shirt I ever got and outgrew a long time ago is salvaged and is now paired with another shirt with another piece of art I love. I pay attention to the clothes of my friends and my lovers and I can give them something that will be with them for as long as they keep their clothes - for longer, even, if they are passed on.

And I don’t need to hoard that. It would be antithetical. For every person I teach a ladder stitch, that’s so many shirts and pants and skirts and jackets that will last just a bit longer. For every mending kit I hand out, someone will keep their favorite shoes for another year. It saves money, it keeps trash out of landfills, it takes back power from the ghouls who would have us licking their feet for table scraps. But most of all, repairing something you love makes it even more yours. To be loved is to be changed. To be cared for is to leave your mark and wear others’, forever.

I'd like to propose a media literacy standard called "the Tide Pod test":

when you see someone on TV or the internet complaining about something "kids" are doing, ask yourself how many times - if ever - you've actually seen it happen vs how many times you've seen random third parties whine about it.

if the ratio of whining to actual incidents is more than 2:1, you can probably ignore the whole thing. if it's more than 10:1 you should be actively telling the people whining to shut the fuck up.

need That character absolutely delirious with fear. recoiling from everything. unable to parse what's happening around them, their mind stuck in fight or flight. shaking and hyperventilating. completely unconsolable even as they're wrapped in a crushing hug.

galaxy brain addition thank you

If the Incarnation had been in the year 2025, Mary would have given birth under a highway overpass in a homeless camp after being denied entry into the local church-ran shelter because there was no room for a family 'like hers'. Instead of the Christ Child being delivered by archangels, He is pulled from her by the dirty, freezing fingers of the queer teen kicked out by his parents, the junkie who isn't ready to quit, and the schizophrenic whose family became too tired of her symptoms to take care of her for any longer.

If the Incarnation had been in the year 2025, the angels would have appeared to the minimum-wage employees loitering outside their department stores and fast food restaurants, exhausted, feet aching, despairing at the knowledge that their paycheck won't cover both food and utilities.

"Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord!" The angels rumble, louder than the 18 wheelers and construction. "This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in an old hoodie and lying amongst the beer bottles and cigarette butts."

And the workers glance at each other, consider the little change in their pockets and the CEOs who couldn't care less if they froze in their beds because the heat shut off, and begin their walk along the asphalt under the glow of the streetlights.

If the Incarnation had been in the year 2025, Mary and Joseph would have fled from their home in the night, fled from bullets and tear gas and the devils in uniform as state sanctioned genocide ripped their lives to shreds, the wailing little toddler Christ tucked under Mary's chin.

And if the Incarnation had been in the year 2025, the Holy Family would have hid, undocumented and alien, moving across borders and checkpoints, heads down, hearts full of fear and prayer. The Holy Family would sleep in refugee tents amidst camps full of families whose baby sons' bodies had to be left behind, riddled with bullets from guns made by Herod's allies, sold to him under the guise of protecting the peace, when really that just meant protecting his power.

But the Incarnation did not happen in the year 2025. The Christ Child had long since lived, died, and lived again by then. But if He had been born on that frigid night in the December of 2025, under a highway in a homeless camp to a brown mother and father, would you love Him just the same?

Merry Christmas. God bless us all.

getting alphabetized probably feels good as fuck for a bookshelf