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I have too many blorbo-in-laws and it's your fault

@rantsofabookworm

Sup bitches

it's me, Kalli (not my name but yall can call me that) I'm under 18, any pronouns

talk to me about:

-stranger things, atla, arcane

-warrior nun, willow (I'm onlyhalfway through them but I am Very Normal about them so uhh)

-star wars, marvel/xmen, toh, other disney stuff

-other things too just ask and I'll tell you if i know it 💯💯

I'm open to book movie tv show music recommendations if you have any

this is not a terf safe blog. you get blocked on sight

So my mother recently got married (mashallah). And she set up this thing where guests were encouraged to take photos of the proceedings on their phones and text them in to a given number, after which they would be played as a slideshow on a screen at the front of the venue. I want you to take a minute to imagine how this went.

It began just about as you would expect. People taking photos of each other and the décor and taking selfies and having a good time. The slideshow was tasteful. Clearly not “professional,” but nice and personal.

And then people start getting a little drunk. A person who signs their work only as “Moo” posts this masterpiece:

[ID: a vertically oriented photo of a garbage can. A long table draped with lavender fabric at which the bride and groom are seated is in the background. The garbage can is centred in the frame, clearly the focus of the photo. End ID]

Someone at my table notices. “Is that... a photo of a garbage can? What?” We all express confusion and have a chuckle about it. Clearly someone is taking the prompt liberally. But the avant-garde approach to what is worthy of documenting does not end here, and our artist soon enters these submissions into the canon:

[ID: photos of a pendant fire sprinkler, a ceiling vent, a lightswitch, and a door handle. the photos show a casual, non-intensive approach to framing (neither perfectly even nor deliberately askew, &c.) end ID]

Meanwhile someone has uploaded this photo of the groom:

He is sitting at the bride and groom’s table alone with his hands clasped in front of him. I can’t show you his face but he has a bit of stubble and is wearing wire-framed rectangular glasses. I can best describe his vibe to you by saying that he wore this newsie cap to his wedding and this made perfect sense.

Using this photo, someone at our table makes their first few volleys:

[ID: the groom cut out of the photo from before and edited into an empty booth at an empty chain restaurant and an empty movie theatre, respectively. End ID]

At this point, basically everyone except the bride and groom have noticed, and are more or less following the evolution of this guérilla art project. Some people are trying to talk the instigators out of submitting their unworthy photos; others are riling them up.

Moo makes several more of their found object entries:

[ID: a cleaning schedule sign on a bathroom wall; a bathroom sign reading “men”; a digital thermostat; a framed photo of a smiling man, the sign for the men’s bathroom reflected in its glass. end ID]

And it goes back and forth like this for a while, Moo submitting objects (a close-up on the tines of their fork; a mop bucket; a framed fish head) and their nameless collaborator, not be to undone, putting the groom into more situations:

[ID: the groom's head edited onto the body of a cast member in the Broadway musical Newsies, his cap causing him to blend in perfectly; the groom's head edited onto Jamie's head from Mythbusters as he poses next to Adam, his cap causing this edit to be perfectly seamless. end ID]

A further development in the form of these submissions occurs when The Editor invents reappropriation and collage, beginning to edit the groom into photos that other people have uploaded:

[ID: the photo of the groom at the table from earlier, edited so that there are two identical grooms sitting side-by-side: text over their heads reads "Just Married!"; another photo of the groom standing and smiling with a drink in his hand, apparently talking to another groom who is holding his stomach, throwing his head back and laughing aloud. end ID]

Meanwhile, Moo has taken his aesthetic ethos to its only possible logical conclusion:

A photo of a urinal. “Fountain,” Moo, iPhone camera, 2023.

People are now watching the screen even more actively, laughing each time a new silly photo arrives in the stream of genuine submissions. Moo submits a photo of a dented Pringles can seen through a grate in the street outside and a photo of a bag of road-salting ice. The photo of the groom at the table is edited so that he sports a towering Cat-in-the-Hat hat instead of the newsie cap; the groom is edited into an astronaut suit on the moon; he and the bride wearing her fur stole are edited as Jackie O. and JFK in the limo (this last The Editor wisely did not upload but sent only to me).

Not content, however, with editing the groom into non-wedding photos or with sabotaging earnest submissions to the photo album, The Editor proceeds to bring us full circle by reappropriating Moo's recontextualisations, Sherrie Levine-like:

[ID: 1. the photo of the garbage can from earlier, with the groom edited onto the flap that you push garbage through; 2. the groom edited into the photo of the framed photograph from earlier; he has been made greyscale to match the photograph; 3. the photo of the urinal from above, with the groom edited into its bowl. end ID]

The people at Moo’s table (groom’s family) love this last submission ("Urine a Urinal," Anonymous, iPhone camera, 2023). They watch the screen waiting for it to come up again, and when it does, they shout “there it is!” and laugh and clap.

Alas, our destabilisation of what constitutes artistic merit was not allowed to persist. Like the Society of Independent Artists sticking Duchamp’s “Fountain” behind a partition, the bride and groom silently deleted all of the unworthy submissions from the publicly shared album. Luckily, I saw this coming and was able to document the proceedings.

In conclusion, I recommend not crowdsourcing your wedding photos unless you have a very well-developed sense of humour.

There is NOTHING "ethical" or "moral" about a medical practitioner letting someone die because they don't approve of the LGBTQ+ community.

Even doctors who work on battlefields know it is the ethically and morally correct thing to do to care for enemy soldiers who are wounded.

The Florida legislature appears to be enacting laws that are about as hateful and corrupt as Southern legislatures enacted during Jim Crow.

They are turning Florida into a dystopian society.

We cannot let DeSantis anywhere near the Oval Office or he will turn the entire nation into a far right dystopian nightmare.

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“The Florida legislature appears to be enacting laws that are about as hateful and corrupt as Southern legislatures enacted during Jim Crow.”

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The Republican “culture wars” focus on every hateful thing except whatever could actually help people

From the article [emphasis mine]:

The newly signed law says denial of care can’t be based on a patient’s race, color, religion, sex, or national origin, but it provides no protections on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity. Additionally, the law also allows healthcare employers to discriminate in hiring and bars medical boards from disciplining doctors for spreading misinformation, essentially forcing employers to keep workers who refuse to do their jobs, the Human Rights Campaign (HRC) noted.
In a statement, the HRC said the newly signed law “creates a license to discriminate by allowing healthcare employers to discriminate in hiring, and it bars medical Boards from disciplining doctors for spreading misinformation.”

You would have to be willfully ignorant and aggressively naive to believe that Republicans won’t change any of the qualifiers at some future date. Clarence Thomas already implied that he thinks Marriage Equality should be overturned. If they’re coming for the “T” and the “Q” in LGBTQ today, you better believe they’ll be coming for the “LGB” tomorrow. And they won’t stop there.

Which is why I always find it wild when all the TERFs out there side with conservatives (knowingly or otherwise), foolishly thinking that they’re safe.

If you aren’t a wealthy, white, heterosexual, “Christian” male, then you’re fair game for Republican ChristoFascists—you are not safe.

Anyway,…

Republicans want us dead. There's no two ways about it, and nothing they can justify this level of cruelty and evil with. We do not fit into their idea of a perfect world, therefore we must be exterminated.

This is a war for our survival now. Do not be so foolish as to think it is anything but.

This doesn't just affect trans folks, btw. A doctor who doesn't believe it's "ethical" to say, treat a disabled person because they "have poor quality of life already" could easily kill folks. They did it, and are still doing it, throughout the COVID pandemic and before

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did i even tell you guys how i pretended to know how to play an instrument for three years and only two people ever figured it out.

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i don't mean i was like. telling people i could play guitar, i mean i was sitting in band class holding a french horn to my lips and looking at the music and not understanding any of it or knowing how to play a single note. for 3 years.

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the two people who knew were my best friend who knew i was too stupid to play such a complicated instrument and the only other hornist in my section who had to desperately cover for me because he knew i had blackmail material on him. i only came clean this year in my senior speech and to this day people still call me mellophony and the no hit wonder.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

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I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

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Fuck man

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this 50′s hungarian comic strip I’d never heard of until now is so damn cute for something that also gets so horny

It helps that the writer was trying to create something he hoped would appeal to women as much as men.

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Yeah and I think where it really succeeds vs. modern anime wifey fantasy shit is that Jucika really is just a character super comfortable with being sexual, likes looking sexy and even has no shame in using it to get her way:

….But at the same time, she doesn’t tolerate being objectified against her wishes:

….And the comic takes her side in both cases, whereas I’ve seen countless modern narratives in which this same character would have only been framed as like a Slutty ™ Bitch ™ or full blown villain.

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One of the things I also really like about this comic, besides what’s already been stated, is that the humor isn’t always about her being sexy. Sometimes it’s just about other goofy things in her life!

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oh yes many of them are experienes just anybody can relate to

but then there’s also the time she just….built a functional AI?

she just didn’t predict how the robot rebellion would really manifest

I love how there isn’t a single dialogue bubble, yet you can fully understand what’s happening.

Always reblog Jucika.

People blocking my path bc they are slow-moving, e.g. elderly people and others with mobility issues: Take your time, no problem, please do not apologize, I am in no rush 👍🏻❤️

People blocking my path because they are not paying one bit of attention: I feel murder in my heart. I feel seething, bone-crushing rage. You had to stand and stop in a fucking doorway? What are you doing on your phone? Are you tapping your last will and te