“Time to put on our bitchy pants and say shitty things about the Oscars and everyone nominated for the Oscars. Now, according to Entertainment Weekly, this year’s Oscars will be “song-and-dance heavy,” which is arguably the most terrifying thing I have ever read. The Grammys were two weeks ago. That is the show where singing and dancing are appropriate. When singing and dancing happen at the Oscars, you get this. Who asked for more musical bullshit at the Oscars this year? Was it you? If it was you, I’ll piss in your soup.

All of this will presided over by Seth MacFarlane, who’s so hip with the kids these days and will surely get ABC the two percent bump in male 18-24 viewership that they so desperately covet. […]

Anyway, let’s get on with Oscar Night, aka the one night a year on which I become a diehard Republican. […]

I’m … very excited for Best Picture to go to yet another movie about making movies. Because I never feel like movies get enough appreciation, you know? We barely pay attention to movies these days. Meanwhile, they’re quietly liberating our hostages and saving depressed French actors from suicide. And they ask for NOTHING in return! About time the Academy gave the filmmaking process the vigorous anal tonguing it deserves.

Silver Linings Playbook: You and I both know that if Lasse Hallstrom had directed this thing, it would have been the shittiest, most predictable romantic comedy ever created. “What happens when a bi-polar guy meets a bi-polar gal? And they have to join forces to win a local dance competition to win a bet for a grumpy Robert De Niro? Sparks will fly this summer when Katherine Heigl and Justin Long are … DANCIN’ FOR DADDY-O.” […]

Hugh Jackman: This isn’t a nomination for playing Wolverine? That’s stupid. I have no use for Hugh Jackman in non-Wolverine roles. Give Jackman a chance to play someone else and you know what you get? Australia. No one cares.

Bradley Cooper: Looks like someone figured out that the key to scoring an Oscar nom is to play a mentally disturbed (but still attractive) person and surround yourself with a top-notch cast and a top-notch director to hide your glaring acting deficiencies. So I’ll give Cooper credit for managing to make himself look like a competent actor despite having the most punchable face in movies today. […]

Emmanuelle Riva: [H]ow hard can it be for an 85-year-old woman to play someone who’s dying? It’s gotta be like second nature to this woman. I’m not that impressed. Play Tina Turner and then you’re showing me something, lady.

Quavsdlkfsgklsghsrklergdfivfddflkfjgdf Wallis: Obviously, we can’t poke fun at such an adorable little sprite who’s just elated to be part of the festivities. I think it’s wonderful how she doesn’t yet realize that Hollywood is a soulless places where people’s dreams are regularly beaten down and then sold into sexual slavery. I find that kind of naiveté refreshing. […]

Christoph Waltz: This is what happens when Christoph Waltz appears in a movie that is NOT directed by Quentin Tarantino. They should just nominate Tarantino for the acting award. He’s using Waltz as his own personal motion-capture suit. […]

Anne Hathaway: Ah, here we are. Anne Hathaway: The Valedictorian of Actressing. Not since Hilary Swank have we been subjected to such a long string of soulless, coldly professional acceptance speeches. It’s like watching a LinkedIn profile talk.”

The 2013 Hater’s Guide to the Oscars 

“Our ingrained habits change us. Neurons that fire together, wire together, neuroscientists like to say, reflecting the increasing evidence that experiences leave imprints on our neural pathways, a phenomenon called neuroplasticity. Any habit molds the very structure of your brain in ways that strengthen your proclivity for that habit. Plasticity, the propensity to be shaped by experience, isn’t limited to the brain. You already know that when you lead a sedentary life, your muscles atrophy to diminish your physical strength. What you may not know is that your habits of social connection also leave their own physical imprint on you.

How much time do you typically spend with others? And when you do, how connected and attuned to them do you feel? Your answers to these simple questions may well reveal your biological capacity to connect. […]

Your brain is tied to your heart by your vagus nerve. Subtle variations in your heart rate reveal the strength of this brain-heart connection, and as such, heart-rate variability provides an index of your vagal tone. By and large, the higher your vagal tone the better. It means your body is better able to regulate the internal systems that keep you healthy, like your cardiovascular, glucose and immune responses. Beyond these health effects, the behavioral neuroscientist Stephen Porges has shown that vagal tone is central to things like facial expressivity and the ability to tune in to the frequency of the human voice. By increasing people’s vagal tone, we increase their capacity for connection, friendship and empathy.

In short, the more attuned to others you become, the healthier you become, and vice versa. This mutual influence also explains how a lack of positive social contact diminishes people. […]

Work in social genomics reveals that our personal histories of social connection or loneliness, for instance, alter how our genes are expressed within the cells of our immune system. New parents may need to worry less about genetic testing and more about how their own actions — like texting while breast-feeding or otherwise paying more attention to their phone than their child — leave life-limiting fingerprints on their and their children’s gene expression.

When you share a smile or laugh with someone face to face, a discernible synchrony emerges between you, as your gestures and biochemistries, even your respective neural firings, come to mirror each other. It’s micro-moments like these, in which a wave of good feeling rolls through two brains and bodies at once, that build your capacity to empathize as well as to improve your health. […]

So the next time you see a friend, or a child, spending too much of their day facing a screen, extend a hand and invite him back to the world of real social encounters. You’ll not only build up his health and empathic skills, but yours as well. Friends don’t let friends lose their capacity for humanity.”

Your Phone vs Your Heart | NYT

Companion: The Touch-Screen Generation

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Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension and decreasing hope I will love you with no regard to the actions of our enemies or the jealousies of actors. I will love you with no regard to the outrage of certain parents or the boredom of certain friends. I will love you no matter what is served in the world’s cafeterias or what game is played at each and every recess. I will love you no matter how many fire drills we are all forced to endure, and no matter what is drawn upon the blackboard in a blurring, boring chalk. I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to reduce fractions, and no matter how difficult it is to memorize the periodic table. I will love you no matter what your locker combination was, or how you decided to spend your time during study hall. I will love you no matter how your soccer team performed in the tournament or how many stains I received on my cheerleading uniform.I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you if you cut your hair and I will love you if you cut the hair of others. I will love you if you abandon your baticeering, and I will love you if you retire from the theater to take up some other, less dangerous occupation. I will love you if you drop your raincoat on the floor instead of hanging it up and I will love you if you betray your father. I will love you even if you announce that the poetry of Edgar Guest is the best in the world and even if you announce that the work of Zilpha Keatley Snyder is unbearably tedious. I will love you if you abandon the theremin and take up the harmonica and I will love you if you donate your marmosets to the zoo and your tree frogs to M. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fetuccini and as the horseradish loves the miyagi, as the tempura loves the ikura and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness in the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged print of the document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a child loves to overhear the conversations of its parents, and the parents love the sound of their own arguing voices, and as the pen loves to write down the words these voices utter in a notebook for safekeeping. I will love you as a shingle loves falling off a house on a windy day and striking a grumpy person across the chin, and as an oven loves malfunctioning in the middle of roasting a turkey. I will love you as an airplane loves to fall from a clear blue sky and as an escalator loves to entangle expensive scarves in its mechanisms. I will love you as a wet paper towel loves to be crumpled into a ball and thrown at a bathroom ceiling and an eraser loves to leave dust in the hairdos of the people who talk too much. I will love you as a cufflink loves to drop from its shirt and explore the party for itself and as a pair of white gloves loves to slip delicately into the punchbowl. I will love you as a taxi loves the muddy splash of a puddle and as a library loves the patient tick of a clock. I will love you as a thief loves a gallery and as a crow loves a murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you as a battlefield loves young men and as peppermints love your allergies, and I will love you as the banana peel loves the shoe of a man who was just struck by a shingle falling off a house. I will love you as a volunteer fire department loves rushing into burning buildings and as burning buildings love to chase them back out, and as a parachute loves to leave a blimp and as a blimp operator loves to chase after it. I will love you as a dagger loves a certain person’s back, and as a certain person loves to wear daggerproof tunics, and as a daggerproof tunic loves to go to a certain dry cleaning facility, and how a certain employee of a dry cleaning facility loves to stay up late with a pair of binoculars, watching a dagger factory for hours in the hopes of catching a burglar, and as a burglar loves sneaking up behind people with binoculars, suddenly realizing that she has left her dagger at home. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and until every home is rebuilt form the handsomest and most susceptible of woods, and until every criminal is handcuffed by the laziest of policemen. I will love you until M. hates snakes and J. hates grammar, and I will love you until C. realizes S. is not worthy of his love and N. realizes he is not worthy of the V. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple, and until the apple hates a tree and the tree hates a nest, and until a bird hates a tree and an apple hates a nest, although honestly I cannot imagine that last occurrence no matter how hard I try. I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and the long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from skim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don’t see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me happens to me as I am discovering this. I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else – your co-star, perhaps, or Y., or even O., or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I believe it will be quite some time before two women can be allowed to marry – and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and I will love you if you never marry at all, and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned. That, Beatrice, is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.

Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

Romney to NAACP:

“With 90 percent of African Americans voting for Democrats, some of you may wonder why a Republican would bother to campaign in the African-American community, and to address the NAACP,” Romney said. “Of course, one reason is that I hope to represent all Americans, of every race, creed or sexual orientation, from the poorest to the richest and everyone in between.”

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Repeat this until you believe it: Having great chemistry does not by itself make someone a good partner for you. People have to be kind, and considerate, and respect boundaries, and when it comes down to it, they have to choose you …

Chemistry (love, lust, that instant recognition that here be your people, “intensity”) does mess with people, and people treat it like some inexorable force that temporarily abrogated all decision-making skills and swept them away. You aren’t the first person to be here, nor is he, nor was I when it was my turn to be in these shoes, but eventually the cloud clears and the question of “should we actually be together” comes up. Are you actually together? Would this wishy-washy guy who didn’t choose you in the end actually make a good partner? The answer to both of these is no.’ 

- Captain Awkward, ‘Life after Darth

story of the Destroyer, as told by Tony Stark

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From Avengers Alliance; ‘prepared by president & CEO Anthony “Tony” Stark’

Stark Industries Tech-Assess: “Destroyer”

“My first question:

“Can I have one?

“No, seriously, I love this thing, and I’ve only seen video of it blasting through a phalanx of SHIELD agents like they were ants at a picnic (sorry, Fury).

“I tried to get Thor to explain it to me, but my advanced degrees are in Engineering and Physics, not Comparative Religion. I’ll do my best to repeat what he told me:

“Back in Ye Olde Mythy Times, Thor’s dad, Odin, King of the Space Vikings, needed to defeat a cosmic-level threat to Asgard. So he had the same dwarves that built Thor’s hammer forge an indestructible suit of armor he could project his essence into. This gave the Destroyer incredible strength and energy projection that, based on the aforementioned video, has to be approaching 3.8 x 10^26 joules. That’s the total daily energy output of the sun each second, Nick.

“Once the threat was vanquished, the Destroyer was still partially imbued with Odin’s lifeforce and therefore too dangerous to just leave lying around, so Odin sealed it in a tomb in Asgard.

“Which is a total shame, if you ask me. Like I said, I want one. For one thing, the commercial applications of a lifeforce-powered super-metal are endless.

“I tried to set up a meeting through Thor so I could study the Destroyer more closely, but he just laughed and said his father would ‘smite me for my impudence.’ I said so would Miss Belize 2009.

“He didn’t get it.”

“DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD. We sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o'er the bay, Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold, An easy entrance, night and day. Not far away we saw the port, The strange, old-fashioned, silent town, The lighthouse, the dismantled fort, The wooden houses, quaint and brown. We sat and talked until the night, Descending, filled the little room; Our faces faded from the sight, Our voices only broke the gloom. We spake of many a vanished scene, Of what we once had thought and said, Of what had been, and might have been, And who was changed, and who was dead; And all that fills the hearts of friends, When first they feel, with secret pain, Their lives thenceforth have separate ends, And never can be one again; The first slight swerving of the heart, That words are powerless to express, And leave it still unsaid in part, Or say it in too great excess. The very tones in which we spake Had something strange, I could but mark; The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark. Oft died the words upon our lips, As suddenly, from out the fire Built of the wreck of stranded ships, The flames would leap and then expire. And, as their splendor flashed and failed, We thought of wrecks upon the main, Of ships dismasted, that were hailed And sent no answer back again. The windows, rattling in their frames, The ocean, roaring up the beach, The gusty blast, the bickering flames, All mingled vaguely in our speech; Until they made themselves a part Of fancies floating through the brain, The long-lost ventures of the heart, That send no answers back again. O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned! They were indeed too much akin, The drift-wood fire without that burned, The thoughts that burned and glowed within.”

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “The Fire of Drift-Wood”

I was bored so I read a couple of essays about the Powerpuff Girls. This is my favorite:

The Powerpuff Girls: A Society of Girl Power by Krissy Naudus

The television cartoon Powerpuff Girls is often cited as providing good role models for little girls, showcasing strong female characters capable of rational thought and conflict resolution. The premise revolves around three little girls endowed with superpowers, who have “dedicated their lives to fighting crime and the forces of evil.” Most episodes feature the trio battling against all manner of maniacal villains and giant monsters, usually winning through cunning and wit, though in many cases overpowering their enemies as well. In its portrayal of all females as strong and capable, the show turns the standard ideas of gender roles upside down. This analysis will look at how the show flip-flops the inherent power structure of gender without sacrificing the female identity. Despite their inherent power and role as civic protectors, the Powerpuffs are still little girls who wear dresses and play with dolls.

Every episode begins with a brief introduction, paraphrasing the old adage that little girls are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice. With the Powerpuff Girls this becomes more than a proverb, since they literally are constructed of these items, with an accidental dash of “Chemical X” as the catalyst for their creation. As the original adage intended, these essential ingredients are reflected in their personalities. Bubbles is a sweet and loving little girl who likes to draw pictures and sleep with stuffed animals. Buttercup is the spitfire tomboy, fond of fighting monsters and teasing her sisters. Blossom is the leader of the group, scholarly and intelligent, always respectful of her elders. Despite these outward traits, they do not relegate the girls to any one role. The show’s creator Craig McCracken has said, “The Girls are all combinations of cuteness and toughness. So Bubbles has cuteness and a little toughness, and Buttercup has toughness, then cuteness. Then Blossom’s in between.” Thus Buttercup is capable of having a crush on an older guy, while another episode featured Bubbles struggling to prove that she is just as aggressive as her two sisters. Society typically places females into a passive stance; the Powerpuffs must defy this assignment because of the powers they have been gifted with.

Common superhero ideology dictates that great power brings great responsibility. As superheroes the Powerpuffs are required to use their abilities for the benefit of mankind, to protect and serve in the tradition of the police and other law enforcement agencies, though on a more fantastic scale. The role of protector is an aggressive position, in direct conflict with the idea of the feminine as passive. For this reason male superheroes outnumber female heroes in the comic book realm, because a woman cannot fulfill societal expectations and still perform the required duties of a superhero. The women are often relegated to the roles of girlfriend or mother, figures in need of protection and the occasional rescue. The Powerpuff Girls neatly sidesteps this uncomfortable dichotomy by purging the citizens of Townsville of any societal expectations. Thus the Powerpuff Girls are respected and admired for their role as resident superheroes, while still being adored for being sweet and caring little girls.

By neatly eliminating the restraints erected by established concepts of gender, the show empowers all its female characters. The Mayor employs a gorgeous secretary named Ms. Sara Bellum, who defies stereotypes by being incredibly smart in addition to her stunning good looks. Ms. Bellum guides the Mayor through his daily obligations, and is usually the one to suggest calling the Powerpuffs on their hotline in times of crisis. Ms. Bellum represents a feminine ideal, as a woman who can be both intelligent and beautiful, participating in politics and maintaining a position of power without sacrificing her obvious sexuality.

The Powerpuffs attend school at Pokey Oaks Kindergarten, taught by the kindly Ms. Keane. In contrast to the sexy red dress worn by Ms. Bellum, Ms. Keane is adorned in dowdy earth-tone clothes, emphasizing her role as caregiver and nurturer. She regards her students equally, regardless of gender or superpowers. She is not easily intimidated, and will not hesitate to discipline her students when they misbehave. Together Ms. Bellum and Ms. Keane form the primary role models for the Powerpuffs, and often advise them in crisis situations. The solutions invented by the pair are often non-confrontational, in opposition to the usual episode resolutions where the Powerpuffs overpower the villains. When the Gang Green Gang terrorizes her class, Ms. Keane will not allow the Girls to fight them directly, but instead lets the Powerpuffs challenge the Gang to a dodgeball game that the Powerpuffs easily win. In another episode the Powerpuff Girls find themselves evenly matched in a battle with their male counterparts, the Rowdyruff Boys. They triumph only when coaxed by Ms. Bellum to utilize their feminine wiles, causing the Boys to explode. Though the stereotypes and boundaries imposed by female sexuality have been removed, it remains a powerful tool that can be harnessed to subdue and manipulate men.

How a character uses their sexuality defines their nature. While the Powerpuffs and Ms. Bellum use it to protect themselves and the City of Townsville, the female villains utilize their sexuality for devious and selfish ends. Sedusa commits robberies and then disguises herself in the guise of a sexually charged innocent, the bystander too attractive to possibly do any wrong. In one episode she even disguised herself as Ms. Bellum and cajoled the Mayor into letting her leave work early so she could rob banks. Princess is a young girl who wheedles her rich father into buying her everything she wants, including high-tech weaponry to kill the Powerpuff Girls. Using sexuality to subdue men is often seen as a method for leveling the playing field between women and men in a world where men are traditionally seen as superior. Since this gender distinction does not exist in the show, the women have a definite advantage over the men, a benefit easily abused by those inclined to evil.

In a world where the primary movers and shakers are women, the men are stripped of the essential components of masculine identity. They cannot be protectors because they lack superpowers. The Mayor is an idiot, and relies on Ms. Bellum for everything from scheduling meetings to reminding him how his name is spelled. The other villains in the series are mostly vicious and destructive, with little reason for their actions except to distinguish them from the ordinary citizens. The best-defined masculine figure on the show is that of Professor Utonium, the creator of the Powerpuff Girls. A brilliant scientist and doting dad, the Professor stands as the other major role model in the Girls’ life, comforting or scolding them when necessary. These positive traits serve as contrasts against his innate stupidity, as a naïve man who often misses the point or fails to see beneath the surface. This base idiocy is representative of his impotence as a force for discipline. Professor Utonium could not physically enforce any punishment on the Girls because of his lack of superpowers; they only listen to him because they want to. On the few occasions when the Girls decide to be naughty or selfish, the Professor has to rely on guilt to drive them back into line. The dynamics of their relationship is similar to religion, where a congregation abides by the rules set forth by the church because of their belief in God, and not for fear of immediate retribution. The Professor is the creator, and the Girls are the believers. The point is driven forward in an episode where a villain confronts the girls by saying “Prepare to meet your maker!” and they respond, “You leave the Professor out of this!” The male as creator is the one role not usurped by a female in the show, though rightfully belonging to women as the ones who give birth.

The Powerpuff Girls showcases a world without stereotypes and exhibits the female role in such a world. Each character represents a different type of woman and allows us to see the full capabilities of all, unencumbered by the restrictions imposed by traditional society. They can exhibit feminine traits without sacrificing power or status. The women of Townsville represent the female gender expanded to its fullest potential.

Source

For Women Who are Difficult to Love
Warsan Shire

you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him traveling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart 
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl. 
you have an apartment 
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size 
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away 
your cracked past, your 
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down 
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before 
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take 
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it 
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying 
to disappear as revenge. and you 
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade 
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas. 
heart leaking something so strong 
they can smell it in the street.

— “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell” by Marty McConnell (youtube)

What Happens When You Really Disconnect

blogs.hbr.org

As Daniel Goleman writes in Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence, a fascinating new book he’ll publish this fall: “Overloading attention shrinks mental control. Life immersed in digital distractions creates a near constant cognitive overload. And that overload wears out self-control.”

From the moment I boarded the plane for our trip, I noticed a shift. Ordinarily, I would have skittered between reading the newspaper, magazines, answering email, and surfing the web (if it was available). I’d brought along a pile of books, mostly novels, and none of them related to work. I began reading the first one, and I very quickly became absorbed. For once, nothing else was competing for my attention.

The first time I felt a distracting impulse, it was to Google something I’d read. The initial pull was compelling, but I let it pass. Over the next several days, it happened perhaps a half-dozen more times, and on each occasion I simply observed the feeling without responding to it. By mid-week, that impluse evaporated, and I realized how much richer and more satisfying any experience is when it’s not interrupted — even if the interrupter is me.

Guys, this is so much bigger than Louis and Harry now. Does anyone realize that? We don’t just believe in a gay couple, we stand for equality, and we stand up for ourselves. We not only trended bravery for Louis and Harry, but for those girls that have committed suicide, and not just those girls but ANYONE who has committed suicide for being who they are. This is so much bigger than Larry. Larry shippers are taking a stand. We’re against bullying and against anti-gays. We could change lives with this. And today has been so inspirational for me, seeing everyone come together like we did after a horrible turn of events yesterday.

People tell us we’re ruining lives and relationships but honestly, we’re trending these things for people that need the encouragement. For people who have given up hope, because we’ve all been there, and we all know how it feels to feel like no one really cares. For people who really are brave, the girl who goes to school every day even though she faces relentless torture for having a girlfriend. The guy who gets bullied every day in the locker room because he likes guys instead of girls. We’re standing up for these people and giving them hope that it will get better, that there are open minded people out there that will accept them for who they are. That one day they will find their Prince Charming or Cinderella just like any other person. That’s what Larry has become. It’s become hope for everyone that true love does exist and there is a soul mate for you out there, maybe you just have to open your eyes and see what’s in front of you.

The way we all pull together when someone needs us is amazing, and I know I say it a lot but I fucking love every single Larry shipper, every single one of you that has stuck around through it all. 

#Bravery

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Hughes was the poet among the teenagers who created Facebook; unlike Zuckerberg and dorm mate and cofounder Dustin Moskovitz, he didn’t write software code and didn’t want to. Instead, he tried to figure out ways that people would want to connect with one another and share stuff more easily. (His nickname among Facebook insiders is “the Empath.”) Hughes began to make product suggestions, “screwing around with the site,” as he puts it. When they decided to open Facebook to students outside of Harvard, he argued that different schools should have their own networks, to help maintain the site’s feeling of safety and intimacy. He became the official Facebook explainer: part anthropologist, part customer-service rep, part media spokesperson.

“Stop comparing where you’re at with the where everyone else is. It doesn’t move you farther ahead, improve your situation, or help you find peace. It just feeds your shame, fuels your feelings of inadequacy, and ultimately, it keeps you stuck. The reality is that there is no one correct path in life. Everyone has their own unique journey. A path that’s right for someone else won’t necessarily be a path that’s right for you. And that’s okay. Your journey isn’t right or wrong, or good or bad. It’s just different. Your life isn’t meant to look like anyone else’s because you aren’t like anyone else. You’re a person all your own with a unique set of goals, obstacles, dreams and needs. So stop comparing and start living. You may not have ended up where you intended to go. But trust, for once, that you have ended up where you needed to be. Trust that you are in the right place at the right time. Trust that your life is enough. Trust that you are enough.“  

— Daniell Koepke 

(via:: uni-tea:my-quarterlifecrisis)

Context:  Bella is giving Edward a blow job.

 After I could down the taste, I took more of him inside of my mouth. My teeth scraped his length and my hands pumped what I couldn’t take inside my mouth.

Ow.

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