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the kingdom of perpetual night

@aviiaaa

henry

Song Recommendation Hub

in honour of the unfilled slot. may Stairwell by Nick Lutsko rest in peace.

Any obscure song you want to share that didn’t make it into the tournament, or that did, can be left here (rb’s, tags, or replies are fine)!!! Feel free to rant/write about your recommendations :-0!!!

Thank you all for your respect with my mistake, and if you have any more recommendations for this bracket feel free to share <3

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https://youtu.be/ujU0QWaluCA

the first time i listened i thought it would be the type of songs to make me feel physically sick and they do but in a heart head brain hurt good way i.ts definitely a song.

https://youtu.be/nNeNn_KETIg

ajj is definitely a known band in corners but listening to this song for the first time unprompted is the closest thing i will probably ever have to a religious experience like wtf this song is so good and its pretty unkown

https://youtu.be/YxN8nPTn68Q

good

Can't Fuck/Bad In Bed Bracket. Round 2, Side A

Light Yagami (Death Note) versus LD Curtain (The Mysterious Benedict Society TV)

[ID: The unfuckable pride flag overlaid with the "no bitches" meme. Over it are pictures of the contestants. Light is a pale Japanese man with brown hair, shown with an exaggerated grimace; and Curtain has hair slicked to the side and is shown pursing his lips and throwing his hands back. Over them are sparkles and a heart with a butt, and in between them are peach emojis crossed out with the word "vs" in them. End ID]

Propaganda:

Light Yagami: "Man is too up his own ass for anyone else to be." / "everyone wants to be his bitch but hes gay and obsessed with the second worst guy ever (light himself is the first worst guy) women are THROWING themselves at him but he just doesnt care if he saw a vagina he would kill himself immediately and he hasnt seen a single dick in his life either not even his own"

LD Curtain: "He's both a cringefail loser (See: 1. repeatedly beaten by a group of literal children, at one point even saying "they have proven to be my only worthy adversaries" (<- man talking about a group of eleven year olds), 2. screaming at a child, while visibly tearing up, "I AM NOT SAD! I AM *FINE!*", 3. genuinely thinking he can simply say no to having narcolepsy, 4. keeps little painted figurines of his brother and co and does magic tricks with them to intimidate an eleven year old, sincerely thinks this is an extremely cool thing to do), a bad dad (terrible both in the sense that he's emotionally abusive and in the sense that he thinks he's doing suuuuuuuch a good job and he very much isn't), and just like. evil?? but not in the sexy way. and also he's in denial about it which makes it even LESS sexy. Negative sexy if you will. "I'm not bad. who thinks that" sir you are standing in your mind control machine. "Sticky! Friend! Evil is a bit harsh!" sir you psychologically tortured him. anyway he does stupid little magic tricks and is a complete failure but somehow manages to convince everyone that he's charming and actually very cool. while obviously like, starting a cult or being just visibly a cringefail maniac two seconds from flying off the handle. anywya this got out of hand the point is: UNFUCKABLE."

the doctor emotionally monologuing at the daleks and then it cutting to shots like this is one of my favorite parts of dw

I love when dogs and cats just let you pat the shit out of them and they enjoy it so much. Like yeah dude real quick I just need to play you like a bongo and they’re like god yes I’ve been waiting for someone to play me like a bongo

I don’t think Hamlet’s speech “to be or not to be” should be read in posh/loud tones, or a conversational tone. He isn’t some wise philosopher musing to himself about the meaning of life, or a gladiator giving an inspirational speech — this speech is his musings about suicide, for Someone’s sake!

So I think this speech should be read in a scared, trembling tone: a quiet whisper of reminding oneself — one who doesn’t need such reminder — that life is hard and there is a way to end all troubles, but also the moral question: is it “nobler” to suffer? Should Hamlet take the harder route, for his pride’s, or whatever’s, sake? In this essay I will

i’ve started saying “denmark is a prison” in response to the mildest of inconveniences. too much homework? denmark is a prison. have to eat something i don’t like? denmark is a prison. toilet paper finished? denmark is a prison.

There was one of those hyperspecific polls that had an option like “your grandfather told you war stories that he never told anyone else” and now I feel like I have to tell the story about how a spider saved my grandpa’s life in WWII and how my family doesn’t kill spiders because we owe our existence to that One Single Spider

So to set the scene, it's the height of WWII in France and my grandpa—a 6'3" 20 year old upper Michigan farm boy—has been separated from his company after their temporary camp was shelled. My grandpa (who, I have to add, was nicknamed 'the Suicide Kid' at this point because he worked in demolitions and bomb interception and kept taking the jobs no one wanted with the expectation that he was never going home anyway) is scared out of his wits, wandering around the French countryside alone. He has to move at night and sleep in barns and sheds during the day to hide from people who most definitely want him dead.

On one of these days, he finds a farmhouse of a very jittery couple who agree to let him sleep in the barn, with the conditions that he sleeps in the barn loft and if he's found, they disavow all knowledge that he was there. He agrees, because he's exhausted and will sleep in a hay pile if he has to. My grandpa manages to fit all six foot three inches of himself into a feed trough stored upstairs and tries to get some sleep.

However, right when he's half-snoozing, he hears motors outside and sure enough, here are some very angry officers of mixed Nazi and Vichy make confronting the couple saying someone up the road spotted an American soldier walking this way. They wouldn't know anything about that, would they? No, of course not.

All the while, my grandpa—now trying to figure out how to either escape the barn unseen or how to fight off six? seven? eight? people at once—freezes up and waits for the inevitable. While he does, a HUGE spider crawls next to his head and onto the loft railing. For one second, he thinks about swatting it away, but that would risk him being seen and killed.

So, instead, he lays there and waits to either fight to the death or get executed in a feed trough. And while he lays there, the spider starts making a huge web on the railing. My grandpa's transfixed by this thing. He watches her go around and around, building a solid web before plopping herself off to one side and waiting for breakfast. At the same time, the officers finally go into the barn.

My grandpa can hear them searching around, turning over crates and checking animal pens. Then, he hears one say to check the loft.

And then another say, "Don't bother. Look at the spiderwebs up there. No one's been there in a while."

And they leave.

Because my grandpa didn't swat the spider away and let her build her web, the officers thought no one was there and left him alone. They drive off and my grandpa immediately thanks the farmer couple and hauls ass out of there as soon as he can.

After this, my grandpa refused to kill any spider, and his kids did the same. Because if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have lived and would never have had kids or grandkids. So we owe her one.

There's the man himself. Go grandpa!!

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From Richard III Act 1 Scene 2

ANNE: Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too

Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed!

O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous!

GLOSTER: The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him.

ANNE: He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

GLOSTER: Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither;

For he was fitter for that place than earth.

ANNE: And thou unfit for any place but hell.

GLOSTER: Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

ANNE: Some dungeon.

GLOSTER: Your bedchamber.