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sure do exist

@oddramblings

This here is a description. ill get it looking nice at some point

Imagine being a tuna (Atlantic bluefin, Thunnus thynnus). You are a super predator, over six feet long and almost a ton. You are as beautiful and shiny and mercilessly efficient as a sports car, a true marvel of the sea. But you taste so fucking good

I agree with you and also think this is some kind of philosophical point. Cruel efficiency will not save you when you have soft delicious insides

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i have good news for the person who wrote that tag and bad news for sports car drivers

lately my friends have been tellin me that sometimes its okay to be a burden. take up space. be a lil annoying. this is part of the human experience, and its okay to let go a little bit and be you and let people love you anyway

every once in a while ill get a notification for this one and see it's on the version that doesn't have the Confrontation. this is how i can tell who the good marks are

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I'm not on tblockers. No need. I never block. I dodge, roll, and parry. I take a sip of my estrogen flask, and attack anew

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what does your estrogen flask look like?

WOAH!

tw: death/souls

I know death in Western cultures mostly gets viewed as a scary, dangerous, horror-style thing...but this webcomic really does make death more...accessible?  Less scary?  It really hits hard in the heart at times (consume responsibly if you’re faint-hearted about such things), but at the same time, it’s very touching and heart-warming.

My utter disdain for the 2010s era of Nerd Culture eternally evades me. I cannot articulate the trail of slime it leaves in my thoughts.

There's something beneath the simmering misogyny and lobotomized consumerism and hair-pin reactionary politics that I can't quite pin down. I haven't been able to pin it down for years.

It's the reactionary politics but it's not the reactionary politics. My aversion is simultaneously deeply material and deeply petty. It was a culture that I was forced into, but never felt comfortable inside. I wore the label of Nerd like the apron I wore at Starbucks. Begrudging utility. An inevitable consequence of the autism. Social camouflage.

You know what it might be? Not to get all Catcher in the Rye about this, but it all felt so phony and performative. There was a sense that most people didn't even like the things on their graphic tees.

You watched Star Wars because you had to. You familiarized yourself with comic books because you didn't want to feel left out. Your opinions about the things were almost irrelevant. Deeper discussion of Thing took the form of hype-cycle praise, or brainworm-inducing forum arguments in which the only goal was to prove that you had memorized more facts about the thing.

Yet at the same time, genuine passion was looked down upon. Genuine, strange, love was maladjusted and naive, the realm of basement-dwelling austists and mouth-breathing sperglords. Real nerds would never stoop to infodumping. At least we aren't like them. At least we aren't that kind of nerd. No! We're handsome, jacked misogynists just like the people who haven't bullied us since 1991. Nerds are sexy now! Our new love is cool, devoid of both the passion and depth that could make it vulnerable to mockery.

I died but I came back exactly the same. You though, I came back and you were wrong. Did the fact of my dying really damage you that much? Was bringing me back worth what it cost you? Would it have been better to just leave me?