pride moodboard

Shiiiddd claiming it now

Claiming that

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

We’ll find you Amanda.

this has almost 11 million notes what is this

I’ve never seen this post once in 10 years on this site

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

I’ve never even heard of this before tho??? Wtf??????????

oh my god, I didn’t think there were any surviving versions of this post left

For those who weren’t around in the Deep Lore times, this is one of the relics of the editable post era. This post has THE SINGLE HIGHEST NOTES of ANY post on this site, bar none, but with more than a dozen variations. Every single post you’ve ever seen with more than 3 million notes has been a different version of this one.

This is the “Dean’s Gym Shorts” post. This is the Flubber post. This is the original “Reblog if you support gay people” post. it was ALL of them. before half the site got nuked, it had even more notes than it has now - at one point, well over 15 million, and that was years ago.

This, with no exaggeration, is the ONE TRUE heritage post

This website truly is bizarre

A pleasant surprise.

When he goes back into the dirt

i can’t believe this little shit has a completely armored back and then sleeps belly up just to dare predators to fuck with it

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

yeah sorry i just don't think i can make it out tonight. i have to pick up my wife from her murder trial.

yes of course she did it. why do you think i married her.

This just happened to me. Like exactly like this.

man this feels like a metaphor for anxiety or living paycheck to paycheck 

Marlene Dietrich is detained at a train station in Paris in 1933 for violating the ban on women wearing trousers.

As with all german actors in the 30's, you always gotta check the World War II section of their Wikipedia page. Well im happy to report that Marlene Dietrich was in open opposition to the Nazi regime, and in 1937 donated her entire salary for a film (over 9 million dollars in todays money) to helping Jewish refugees :)

yeah yeah opening a fic and "he would not fucking say that" but what about you open the fic and "he would fucking say that". what about that pure feeling of euphoria when it's exactly right the way you like it

Penguins walking at 5x speed.

English added by me :)

The plague doctor covering me in leeches

shakespeare characters having weird reactions to deaths: macbeth / hamlet / julius caesar

sorry to be pedantic outside of the tags but i love these as exhibits a b and c of why the “shakespeare is meant to be performed” cliche is real; on the page they look wild but actors know how to read the embedded stage directions

two of these examples can’t be shared lines of iambic pentameter (both gertrude’s line and brutus’ are already rushed and irregular at eleven syllables, so laertes and cassius both get their full ten beats for two or three words) and one of them doesn’t have to be (macduff and malcolm’s lines add up to ten beats indicating that it’s shared but no one will call the scansion cops on you if you split it into two and divvy up the extra ten syllables between them, which imo is the more playable option)

remember that verse is symphonic and that those extra syllables are notes in the orchestration of the scene— they have to go somewhere, either into beats of rest or sound. there’s a lot of ways to score any of these moments but one possibile notation for the first is

MACD: your royal father’s murdered.

(rest/ rest/ rest/ rest/ rest/)

MAL: oh.

(rest / rest / rest/ rest/ rest/) ...

by whom?

all that silence affords the director a moment to let a lightning-fast scene (the entire cast pouring onstage in ones and twos, yelling over each other at varying levels of authenticity) come to a screeching halt, and the severity of the situation set in. for the actor it’s playable as all hell, and ultimately very human: the kind of raw shock that makes you ask stupid questions. you get the same thing with laertes. tbh i’ve always found “drowned? (rest / rest /) oh. (rest / rest / rest / rest/ rest /) .....where?” to be utterly goddamn devastating in how realistic it is, bc what else can you say to that? if someone told you with no warning that your sister drowned, what else would come out of your mouth in the moment but something stupid and mundane? oh. ..........where did it happen?

the other notable similarity in these three moments is the use of un-words: two ‘o’s and a ‘ha’ (they aren’t meant to be pronounced exactly like “Oh” or “Ha”; traditionally shakespearean un-words are performed as unarticulated sounds, sighs, groans, exhalations etc). un-words leap out to the actor because it is a character rendered speechless. i made a post a few weeks ago about how big of a deal it is when people written by william shakespeare dont have words for what they’re experiencing/when the pain is so big that even in a metanarrative universe where you are only the words you speak you are forced to admit that something is unspeakable, and every “o” or “ha” or “ah” etc is a moment of this horror, this defeat at the hands of your own medium

it’s a rich moment for actors because in classical text it’s frowned upon to act “outside” of the line (to waste vocal qualities on things that aren’t words, ie to take a pause from speaking your richly layered monologue to let out a pained exhale. “act on the line” says your director, smacking you on the knuckles with a copy of freeing shakespeare’s voice), it’s diva-y and amateurish to take more syllables than you’re given. but when you’re given the space of ten beats for “ha portia”, who will dare call you a scene hog for stretching that “ha” into five notes of agonized, wordless noise?

in the same way that lear’s “howl howl howl” is very much not just the word ‘howl’ said three times these moments demand full, shattering vulnerability from the actor, a dive into the place in the body where pain lives. maybe laertes and malcolm really do say “oh.”, quiet and childlike, or maybe that ‘o’ is a stand-in for the all-air sound that shakes out of you when you get punched in the lungs and try to talk through it, or for that deep animal groan you heard that made you think what was that before you realized it was coming out of your own throat

anyway you get what i mean. you wouldn’t look at a blueprint and say you saw the house, you wouldn’t read the sheet music and say you heard the symphony, etc

We seldom admit the seductive comfort of hopelessness.

It saves us from ambiguity.

It has an answer for every question:

"There's just no point."

Hope, on the other hand, is messy.

If it might all work out, then we have things to do.

We must weather the possibility of happiness.

You get there and all the pretty boys look up from drinking from the reservoir and gallop away like gazelle

Not a single monkey survived the Neuralink experiment. I’ll bet Elmo can’t wait to start torturing and murdering human beings with this.

you can't oppression olympics your way out of how your trauma affected you.

"other people had it worse" bitch! I don't care! just from looking at you it's plain and obvious that you've had a time of it! a person can drown in six inches of water, it doesn't matter if someone else is drowning in ten feet! you're both still fucking drowning! show yourself a little bit of compassion before I come over there and do it for you. this is a threat

They should invent a type of life where you don’t have to work to survive