what she means:
I'm so glad that our lemon tree finally grew and sprouted fruitful lemony lemons. I mean, imagine, we can make lemonade, key lemon pie, lemon merengue pie. I think it's the most valuable of property that we have. I think we should go to the bank and get a loan, actually I think we should just get lemon tree insurance and then get a loan and use the lemon tree as collateral because it is now insured. I truly do love our lemon tree. Just imagine a life full of lemon trees, and all our beautiful lemons, endless possibilities. They're so beautiful, I wish I was a lemon. You wish you were a lemon? If you were a lemon I would put you on my shelf and cherish you like I cherish all our lemons. That's so beautiful, like I only hope that the whores aren't stealing our lemons you know those naughty whores always steal lemons and we do have a couple lemon whores in this community, those damn lemon-stealing whores I hate them because no one will take our prized lemons from us. Hey, has it been about 10 seconds since we looked at our lemon tree? It has been about 10 seconds till we looked at our lemon tree. Hey what the fuck
girls don't have iron in their veins
iron rusts with change
we do not
girls don’t have gold in their hearts
gold yields to fire
we do not
girls don’t have diamonds for bones
crowds steal them away
liampayne: My close friends and family know there are very few times when I’m left speechless… wow! I’m incredibly happy to welcome our new baby boy into the world, it’s a moment that I will never forget for the rest of my life and my favourite memory I have so far. I’m completely in awe of his incredible mother and how she has been the whole way through this, she’s really made my dreams come true. We haven’t named him yet but he’s already capturing hearts including mine. I feel very blessed. Happy Mother’s Day everyone!
cherylofficial: On Wednesday 22nd March Liam and I became parents to an incredibly beautiful, healthy baby boy, weighing 7lb 9 and looking like a dream. Although he still doesn’t have a name he is already stealing hearts. We are all madly in love and overwhelmingly happy with our little arrival. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers around the world. A day that now has a different meaning to me forever 💙
The first conversation of this type at this table had been Charlie, at seventeen, so serious and so scared. He’d looked down at his hands, not meeting Molly’s eyes, or even Arthur’s. The word asexual was whispered like something shameful, and the Weasley parents stumbled over each other to explain that it wasn’t. Shameful. That they loved him anyway.
They walked away from the conversation feeling close to Charlie, glad for the opportunity to be trusted like this, and for the chance to reassure him of their unconditional love. They hadn’t expected the conversation to be the first of many.
Fred’s turn was next, a few years later. He was sixteen, and Molly assumed when he asked for his parents attention at the kitchen table that he was about to confess to the mysterious burn mark on the outside of the house, just under Ron’s attic window. When he instead said that he was bisexual, Molly found herself almost relieved. It was Arthur who did the reassuring that time, though they both hugged him before he left the kitchen.
Ginny’s coming out had been almost casual. She, too, had been sixteen, and had addressed her concerns mainly to her mother, sure that her father wouldn’t fly off the handle. As it turned out, Molly nodded and said that she had known all along, and Arthur laughed and started counting on his fingers.
Harry felt the same conversation necessary, after his breakup with Ginny. He looked, while pronouncing the words, as if he had put something very sharp in his mouth and was getting up the courage to swallow it. “You’ve taken me in and I broke up with your daughter, and I might start dating boys and I’m – I, I’m sorry.”
Molly’s heart broke, like it always does when Harry’s lack of parental affection throughout his life shines through, and she reached for him, reassuring him that of course it was alright, they loved him like one of their sons, he doesn’t need to hide this about himself. Arthur laughed. “You saved three of our lives, Harry, and then the entire world. It would take a lot more than bisexuality to put us off of you.” It shocked Harry that he hadn’t been the one to use the word, but they had known anyway. He felt so much lighter, so much freer having told someone other than Ginny how he felt. The entire world felt within his grasp, now, with such a strong base of love to draw from.
The last conversation - of their children, at least, their grandchildren were going to have their own sets of comings-out - didn’t happen at the kitchen table, but rather, at the front door on Christmas Eve, when Oliver Wood, dressed to the nines and bearing a beautiful poinsettia and a bottle of elf-wine, trailed happily behind Percy. “Mother, you remember Oliver from our school days. I’ve brought him tonight as my partner,” Percy said, in a voice that left no room for disapproval or argument. “I would have brought him before, but we didn’t want to steal Ginny’s thunder from the wedding.”
Molly smiled, kissed Percy and thanked Oliver for the poinsettia, seemingly nonplussed, and just happy to everyone she loved, and everyone her children loved all under one roof.
I’m not here for white tears about the fact that y'all can’t have white pride without being seen as racist. I know some people haven’t opened a history book in the last decade, but that doesn’t make the historical context of it go away.
Whiteness is a construct made specifically to oppress non-whites. And yes, some Europeans weren’t considered white, like the Irish. But guess what? They assimilated to whiteness. Today in the United States, they are considered white and they reap the benefits of whiteness. There are no longer “Irish Need Not Apply” signs in businesses. Gingers are not oppressed for their hair color. “Leprechaun” is not equivalent to the n-word or slurs hurled at Latinxs or other POC. Saying you have “white pride” is literally saying that you are proud of your oppressor status.
You can have your German pride, your Irish pride, your French pride. Those are nationalities, not races. This means that Irish/German/French Pride is NOT the same as White Pride. There are Black Irish, Black Germans, Black French, who could all have pride in the country they are born in. They may be a small percentage of those populations, but they still exist. Erasing them is an act of racism, point blank.
White Pride is the precursor to violence against non-white people. That is the historical context we have today. If I’m out and about and I hear someone shouting “White Pride!” I have to worry about my safety. White Pride rallies call for violence against Black people, Jewish people, Latinx people (and even if they are just saying “Mexican,” you know they’re talking about all of us), Asian people.. basically if you’re not white, they want you gone. And whether that’s voluntarily or by force, they don’t care. hell, I know some of them would love to try and violently force us out.
This is not the case for Black/Latinx Pride.
Black/Latinx Pride rallies don’t lead up to violence against whites. We are showing pride in our cultures, which white people have tried over and over to destroy or steal. We are showing pride in ourselves and our families and our ancestors for making it. For surviving the violence that has etched our history. We are showing that we still love ourselves despite being taught that we should be ashamed.
It’s not the same.
Like at all.
And saying so, quite frankly, is racist as fuck.
So is coming to a person of color, a person who would be targeted by the neo nazis at UVA, with tears because saying that “white pride” is equivalent to “”“pale shaming”“”“ which is not a thing, but that’s a whoLe ‘nother argument.
Okay, but jokes about bad CGI wolves aside, Disney’s latest live action remake just served to remind me what didn’t work in the last few films. Keep in mind this is all my opinion and you don’t have to agree to any of it.
I could appreciate the effort they took in better explaining the lore. The classic film implied Beast could be as young as 11 when the curse took effect for them to be wasting away for “ten years” (as stated in the original Be Our Guest), and a lot of people were left puzzling as to how exactly an entire town failed to notice the ominous castle sitting on their outskirts for all those years. But as with all the other remakes Disney also attempted to flesh out the characters, usually in the form of a heavy backstory, and this is where they always seem to fall flat for me.
This is the main problem I have with live action: they seem to struggle in deciding which tone they want to run with. Do they want to prove they can play with darker and more sombre themes? Those poignant backstories and frequent deaths in the families would suggest so. But then they turn right around and try to emulate the cartoon almost frame for frame. Suddenly the action sequences, one-liners, and visual gags look too hammy and out of place, especially when juxtaposed with the aforementioned Dark Subjects. This isn’t helped by the uncanny valley characters at all.
I’m sure some kids out there find all of this enjoyable and see no problem with the new films (though personally if I saw that CG Lumiere as a child I would have run screaming out of the theatre), but all I could think as I watched Beast tear through the tower pining and singing his heart out was:
“Holy shit Disney, you should remake Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
Think about it: they could play with dark themes all they wanted and it wouldn’t feel out of place at all. The animated film was already one of Disney’s heaviest, in fact I feel it’s been swept under the rug as a result of its heavier tone. The characters themselves are some of Disney’s most subdued and wouldn’t be terribly difficult to translate into live action without changing too much, and they could go nuts with the special effects and locations all they want because it’s got everything.
Medieval city? Check. Tall, ominous towers? Check. Spectacular views for breaking out into song? Check. Political/social commentary still relevant today? Check. Vibrant/fictional locales to pour their CGI budget into? Check. They’ve got one of the best villains in that movie, whether you love to hate him or just … love … him … if you’re one of those weirdos.
But that brings up another point: if they did rework it, I want them to go really dark with it. I’m talking taking cues from their friends in Germany and Der Glöckner von Notre Dame, a musical that managed to preserve a majority of the film while also capturing the weight of the original novel.
Don’t try to redeem Frollo like you did with Maleficent. Preserve all the slimy, misguided, despicable facets of his personality. Don’t gloss over the political commentary of gypsies in Paris, and highlight Clopin’s juxtaposed sides as a result–willing to do whatever it takes to survive even if it means stealing and murdering. We already have one of the most badass women out there in Esmeralda, and finally one who isn’t a damned princess that needs her sparkly dress. Give Phoebus a bigger role, give us time to really see the conflict between his role in society and his moral compass. Focus on Quasimodo’s internal struggle, torn between his curiosity and love for the outside world, but also his blind loyalty and affection to the one man who raised him his entire life.
And for f**k’s sake those gargoyles better be hallucinations to illustrate the toll a lifetime of solitude has taken on the poor guy or I am going to flip some heavy Medieval tables.
And finally Esmeralda dies. No-one gets the girl. Phoebus fails at his job, people get hurt as a result, and he can’t even save the love of his life. And Quasimodo is left utterly broken hearted and alone, with neither his father figure or his friends by his side. The movie ends as the stage play did: with our hunchback carrying the gyspy in his arms in a sad nod to the iconic “Sanctuary!” scene, walking away into the dark unknown, presumably to die as he did in the novel, with Esmeralda in his arms. A sombre Clopin, knocked back down to a beggar (if not dead as well during the seige), narrates the closing scene.
Because life sucks and that’s what you get for attempting to turn a Victor Hugo Novel into anything less than a tragedy.
TL;DR: Disney remake HoND. I double-dog-dare you.
(Oh my god I have not drawn these guys in literal ages. It felt so weird!)