drew associates

things Exo’s story has in common with Reservoir Dogs:

  • a group of people are working closely together and are deliberately withholding their real names from each other
  • they are identified by different colors

seven-bridges  asked:

Hello, I think your artwork has been stolen. The link doesn't work here, so please search for "Yuri On Ice Short Angry Russian Tells To Stay Away From Viktor Cotton Canvas Tote Bag" on the german Amazon site to find it. It might be on other sites as well. You can ask them to take it down. I also contacted another artist, so hopefully the account will be suspended soon...

Hi!  Is this the item you were talking about? This isn’t actually my art, but thank you for your concern! If I know that the person who drew this isn’t associated with the selling account I can report them too :)

Have you considered… Amari with a ponytail? 

anonymous asked:

d8 mairon?

it’s like 'i wanna touch it. he’ll probably slaughter me but i wanna touch it’

bigger version is still p small, no reason to make it any bigger ahaha… except maybe to use as my phone background…


As I began work on The Kennedy Films of Robert Drew and Associates, I knew that 1960’s Primary was really the birth of what we think of as the modern documentary: observational photography based on access to an interesting subject, presenting “real life” as it is lived. I also knew that this new form required new technology—a mobile, quiet camera that could synchronize with a sound recorder. But I had always assumed that the technology arose first and then filmmakers and artists found uses for it. What I learned while working on this release was the extent to which the opposite was true: Robert Drew and his fantastic team of filmmakers (Richard Leacock, D. A. Pennebaker, Albert Maysles, and Terence Macartney-Filgate) had a clear vision of the kind of documentary they wanted to make, and they had to commission the development of a camera to realize that vision.

Read More of the 10 Things We Learned working on The Kennedy Films of Robert Drew & Associates

this-url-was-not-yet-taken  asked:

Hi. :) I need to say this to somebody who gets language. When you talk about someone who died you use the simple past for content and grammar reasons. I get that. We all know that among other things simple past is used to indicate a concluded situation. Here is what makes me angry. When I talk about my late grandparents I have to say 'loved' not love. How is it fair that I have to use simple past despite the fact that the love didn't die with them? Thanks for for letting me vent.

Ah, yes… This is where language breaks down. Every single language has issues like this, but they’re hard to spot. The situation here is that our tense system was devised mainly with action verbs in mind as opposed to stative or experiential verbs. So a verb like “jump” works just splendidly with our tense system. If you jumped, that happened and is done. There’s no way that that action could be continuing, and the tense morphology happens to align quite well with it. “Love”, however, is really a state of mind, more than anything else. It’s a property of the lover, and doesn’t affect the lovee (in fact, someone/thing that’s loved does not ever need to know about the fact that they’re loved. The lovee is simply the person or entity that engenders a feeling within the lover). Consequently, if you love your grandparents (which is the ideal situation), your grandparents need not be present—or, indeed, alive—for you to experience that sensation. And just because someone dies, it’s not like your love—your state of mind—evaporates. Of course it continues! That’s why we ache for those we lose. How “convenient”, in a utilitarian sense, it would be if it were literally impossible to love someone who wasn’t alive. The very instant they died, you suddenly wouldn’t care, and there would be no heartache. As tough as heartache is, though, I think I prefer the way things are.

Anyway, getting back to the grammar, the conventional interpretation of saying something like “I loved my grandparents” if they have both passed is that you loved them while they were alive, and of course still remember them fondly. That is a conventional interpretation based on the way the world works, though; there’s nothing in the grammar that suggests that that should be the interpretation. Indeed, as far as the grammar is concerned, “I loved my grandparents” is functionally equivalent to “I saw my grandparents” (e.g. at the mall earlier in the day. It happened, it’s done, you don’t see them right now because they’re not present). The dissonance you feel is certainly not wrong, but unfortunately there’s no grammatical fix. The only thing you can do is add more verbiage, and say something like “I loved my grandparents, though they are no longer with me” or “I loved my grandparents and continue to do so even though they’ve passed”. Very clunky; definitely not ideal. The good news is that most—if not all—people you will encounter never get the interpretation that you loved your grandparents at some point in time in the past and now you don’t anymore. If you think about it, that’s why we have to supply extra verbiage when you fall out of love with someone (e.g. “I loved her back then”, or “I used to love him”—of course then we apply our cultural conventional wisdom that if that was the case, then it wasn’t “real” love—as if “real” love is the kind that can never wane, so if it did, it wasn’t actual love. How silly! It’s a state of mind, a state of being, and you have no knowledge of your future. Who says it wasn’t real love back then?).

One annoying area of English grammar that I have trouble with is possessives. Possessives are very simple when it comes to objects (e.g. I’m wearing my jacket right now. It’s mine because it was given to me as a gift by my mother and I’ve had it for several years now. According to the law of the US, I legally own this jacket. Plus, conventionally, I’m understood to be the owner of the jacket. Furthermore, it is currently on me, so it is mine just by virtue of it being currently in my possession, just like a plastic fork I happen to be using will be “my” fork even if I throw it away later). That is simple. This is much less simple:

“You are my hero.”

“You are my idol.”

“You are my enemy.”

It’s like, “Oh, really? And how did you decide that? Did you ever think to ask my permission?” I mean, of course the meaning of it is totally understandable and these roles aren’t ones you need a person’s permission for (just like the lovee need have no knowledge of the lover), but the fact that we use possessive morphology makes it seem like an analogous relationship as “my jacket”. With the jacket I own, the jacket obviously never gave me permission: it’s an inanimate thing that humans can do with as they please. It has no agency. Humans do, though. So it’s weird to use this construction that very strongly implies physical ownership with another person that you may never have met and may not know you at all. It’s as if you’ve been claimed and purchased without ever being aware of it or consenting to it.

But this, of course, is just my issue with it. There’s nothing in the grammar that suggests that my interpretation has any validity: it’s just an association I drew. Furthermore, conventionally this issue with possession has to be vanishingly rare (I don’t know anyone else who’s ever thought the same thing). It’s just a weird quirk that I’ve got to deal with—like the fact that there’s no plural for “who” (so weird to me!).

Anyway, I sympathize with your issue. There’s nothing really to be done, unfortunately: You just have to deal with it or make it explicit when you speak. You can always try to create a new idiom and see if it catches on, but it’s really hard to do that. (No one uses my word tumblorg, for someone who uses Tumblr! I think it’s great!) But hey, though we suffer, we suffer together. Solidarity!