Quick reminder that you’re totally allowed to like things without diving completely into knowing everything about them

you like 2 or 3 songs by a band and never listened to more? that’s perfectly okay

you like the Marvel movies but have no interest in reading 50 years of comic books? totally fine

you only play one or two videos games, mostly on your cell phone? they’re fun!

you read and enjoyed the Harry Potter books but don’t care about looking into crazy theories and clues planted in the stories? It’s not for everyone!

You don’t need to meet a requirement to enjoy something and anyone who claims you do is an elitist and an asshole

Frankly put. I am a FAKE GEEK GUY. I admit it. I like geek stuff, but I don’t love geek stuff. Not the way most geeks do. I’m an interloper on the geek scene. I’ve seen the movies, but I don’t know the canon. I am not a true fan.

All those things about not really loving the source material and “just watching the movies” or only reading the one book that everyone has read. That–all of that–applies to me.

But here are some things that have never happened to me. I have never been quizzed about who Data’s evil brother is to prove I like Star Trek. I have never had to justify my place in a midnight line to see Spider-man II by knowing who took up the mantle of Spider-man after Peter Parker’s death. (Peter Parker dies? Really? That’s so sad!) I have never had to explain who Nightwing is in order to participate in a conversation about Batman. (Nightwing is like….Robin on steroids, right?) I have never been asked how battle meditation works in order to voice my opinion that Enterprise shields would probably make a fight with Star Wars technology one sided. (Battle meditation is something that was in that Jedi role playing game, wasn’t it?) I have never had to beat everybody in the room (twice) at Mario Kart to prove I liked video games. I have never had my gender “honorarily” changed by having enough geek interests to be accepted (“you’re one of the guys now”). No one has ever insisted I tell them the difference between a tank and DPS in an MMORPG before allowing me to discuss raiding Molten Core. I have never been dismissed as a faker at a prequel screening because I didn’t know which admiral came out of light speed too close to the planet’s surface in The Empire Strikes Back. I have never been quizzed about Armor Class in order to get past someone who was blocking my path to the back of a game store where my friends were waiting at the tables. I have never been told I’m not a real fan. I have never been shamed for coming to a convention despite my lack of esoteric knowledge. And I have never, ever, EVER been invited to leave a fandom because I didn’t like [whatever it was] enough.

Every one of the things I have listed, I have personally witnessed happen. To women.

That’s not elitism. That’s sexism.

One of the worst things about being a teenage girl is having to prove your music taste as well as your intelligence because people think the two are related. If you like pop music, you’re a mindless idiot who is incapable of intelligent thought or having an informed opinion. All you care about is the top 40, selfies, and Starbucks. You don’t exist outside of social media. If you like male dominated genres, like rap or rock, you need to prove that you aren’t a “fake fan” by rattling of names, albums, years, tours, etc. because obviously you just like them because you only have the capability of liking the boys that like the music. Teenage girls deserve to discover and listen to music, please just let girls love music.

elitist metalheads
  • what they think they sound like:*very educated on the history and subgenres of metal, seem impressive and intelligent*
  • what they actually sound like:lmao u listen to [insert random subgenre here]?? lmaooo poserrerr thats not even REAL METAL lol are u 12 REAL METALHEADS like ME only listen to dark blackened black extreme technical progrssive super grind porn core shit brutal stuff death heavy stone dog diddly doodly penis metal but i bet you dont even know what that is because its super underground and a POSER like YOU could never know that loool poser
The only way to understand Foucault is if you are a graduate student or you are attending a university and have been trained in this particular style of discourse. That’s a way of guaranteeing, it might not be his purpose, but that’s a way of guaranteeing that intellectuals will have power, prestige and influence. If something can be said simply, say it simply, so that the carpenter next door can understand you. Anything that is at all well understood about human affairs is pretty simple. I find Foucault really interesting but I remain skeptical of his mode of expression. I find that I have to decode him, and after I have decoded him, maybe I’m missing something. I don’t get the significance of what I am left with. I have never effectively understood what he was talking about. I mean, when I try to take the big words he uses and put them into words that I can understand and use, it is difficult for me to accomplish this task. It all strikes me as overly convoluted and very abstract. But what happens when you try to skip down to real cases? The trouble with Foucault, and with this certain kind of theory, arises when it tries to come down to earth. Really, nobody was able to explain to me the importance of his work…

gamers who act like first-person shooters are inherently bad are so funny

I’ve noticed that they’re usually Nintendo fans and they always make snide remarks about “cawadooty” or Mountain Dew and Doritos 

not to mention the hoops they’ll jump through to say that Metroid Prime isn’t a first-person shooter

it’s hilarious

eruditefag  asked:

I'm just wondering, what are your academic credentials? I've been perusing your tumblr for some time and as a scholar-in-training of Classics and ancient Mediterranean archaeology I must say that some of things that you have posted concerning the ancient Mediterranean were either misleading or entirely erroneous.

Wow, how rude are you?

I get this exact question at least once a week, usually more, and honestly, it doesn’t make me defensive, it makes me wish I was even LESS qualified than I am. I sure as hell wish I had my f*cking good credit and financial status back instead of being slowly soulcrushed under a mountain of debt.

Almost everything I write about I either knew before college, or learned through my OWN research, because as I’ve said time after time after TIME, THIS IS THE STUFF YOU DON’T. LEARN. IN. CLASSES. IF YOU WANT THE STUFF YOU LEARN IN CLASS, GO TO CLASS. AREN’T YOU LUCKY TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT AND GET YOUR APPROVED TRUTHS IN THE APPROPRIATE ENVIRONMENT.

You some in my inbox with your knickers in a twist asking for my frigging papers and C.V. with your “This isn’t like what I learned in class AT ALL” like THAT SHOULD BE A SURPRISE TO ANYONE. If you don’t like me challenging it, GO DO SOMETHING ELSE.

If it makes you feel good to cast me as some kind of insidious peddler of lies to the gullible, then have at it. I honestly do not care. If you’d rather not take a look in the mirror and ask yourself why you are so committed to the idea that unless you spent thousands of dollars sitting in a classroom and getting a piece of paper that says you were there, you should not be “allowed” to talk about certain things (spoiler: it’s because that’s what you’re doing, and I’d say that makes you pretty invested in the institution of education).

If this had been a message on “You said this thing and why did you say that” or “I think you are wrong about [blank] and here is a thing I read that says otherwise” we could have ACTUALLY HAD A CONVERSATION that people can learn from.

But no, instead you decided to make it about who I am and whether or not you think I’m “qualified”. I mean, come on. Let’s be frank. What you’re saying is really about whether or not someone is “rising above their station” by having this blog. Because if I was a flight attendant, or a migrant worker, or a middle school custodian, or a restaurant server, or someone else “unqualified”, you get to feel superior and fart all over the place about how nothing here really “counts” as anything TRULY academic, right?

News Flash: if you need an excuse to ignore medievalpoc,  you are already free to do that anytime. STOP MAKING THAT MY PROBLEM.

To the future rebloggers with “notice medievalpoc DIDN’T answer the question”, nope! And I’m not going to, either. Enjoy your debunkery. I’d rather people think I’m somehow “unqualified” than continue to legitimize a system of elitism, gatekeeping, and other unsavory practices I fundamentally disagree with.

  • what BEN is:a child trapped in his favorite game who became a sadistic monster
  • what BEN isn't:Jeff's friend, a stoner, my kawaii husbando
  • me:...
  • me:First of all, that's highly debatable. It's been hinted at in TheTruth.rtf that BEN DROWNED and the human Ben may be two separate entities, and that BEN took on the boy's name after his death.
  • me:Secondly, don't think I didn't notice how you typecast people who make any creepypasta headcanons and AUs you don't like as 12-year-old, drooling, yaoi-obsessed fangirls who want their favorite monsters to bone them. This sort of gross gatekeeping bullshit is why there hasn't been genuine innovation in the creepypasta genre for years; you elitists have become so paranoid about fangirls that you routinely reject potential new talent on principle, thinking every idea they put forth will be the Mary Sue to end all Mary Sues.
  • OP:B-b-but....I don't like when BEN is drawn with black eyes so no one should do it...
  • me:...
  • me:get out.
Misadventures in "Contemporary Art"

smarterthanyou submitted to medievalpoc:

@swagjohncage is upset because to those of us who work in it, “Contemporary Art” means something different and distinct from fantasy illustration.

It’s a field where people of colour have to fight for recognition as much as any other cultural field, and so recognizing them their specifically is an important thing: aside from barriers to entry, they have to deal with on the one hand the dangers of a broader culture that rejects their ideas (see: continual attacks on the NEA or other institutions over support for artists of colour and queer artists’ work), and a world of big money and privilege on the other that sees “the right kind” of artists able to climb their way up social ladders.

I’m going to publish your submission. But first let’s address your assumption that I don’t know what you and your buddy are getting at. Here’s the post you’re mentioning for reference.

Here’s a decent primer on what “contemporary art” actually means, and “contemporary art” as it tends to be used.

I have to be totally honest. Your weak attempt above to Explain To Me The Thing taps into a font of extremely personal and visceral rage, partially due to the assumption that I am unaware that “artists of color struggle”.

Because I come from that world. I was a working artist for nearly a decade (and the struggle to even get to that point is another tale in itself) before I was forced to change career paths to survive around 2008-2009. The collapse of the economy drove artists who had degrees and previous success as contemporary artists to snap up the jobs I’d been surviving on, and they they were “too good for”, right out from under me. Including fantasy illustration, as well as commissioned portraiture, tattoo design, graphic design, advertising design, you name it.

Because when you need to put food on the table, a job is a job. And when you could hire Mister Had His Own Show in NYC to draw your kids for peanuts, that means Your Humble Narrator’s brown, disabled, queer self gets the new shiny title of Retail Sales Associate.

When I first decided to go back to school, even at my advanced age I was accepted into one of the most prestigious Fine Arts private institutions in the country…and had to turn down the opportunity to “learn how” to do things I had become accustomed to being paid to do for years when it comes with a $58,000/year price tag attached.

You see, the taste of this particular kind of arrogance is nostalgic and familiar, seeing as I got to eat my own arrogance for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, washed down with a glass of poverty and shame, for quite a long time. Something inside you cracks when you’re outside the poetry/art show in a tiny gay bar in downtown Saint Petersburg or Ybor, flushed with drink at 1 o'clock in the morning, and watch an entire homeless family walking by, the five- and two-year-olds holding hands between a mother and father, wandering the 80-degree streets because the police broke up the tent-town last week,or because the newest tent-town won’t accept families.

But it’s the second homeless family that passes by 20 minutes later that finishes breaking you. And it’s the bag of rice in your cupboard that keeps shrinking, the $25 increase in the rent, the “no” on the phone when you ask your mother if you can move back in, the 8-hour wait in the emergency room, and the knowledge that the 1am streets will be your new home too very soon that sends you a thousand miles northward.

Or maybe it has something to do with the most recent hammered millionaire who staggered into your display at your last big show, shattering the glass frame you took an extra day at Big Retail to pay for. He laughed. He didn’t buy anything.

So you run. You run from the tent towns, the tuberculosis outbreaks covered up by the governor, from the gauntlet of starvelings who linger outside your retail job trying to get any piece of the 7.25/hour you’re making. And you run into an entirely new and different kind of struggle…how I got here is another story, for another time.

I started painting again recently for the first time in years. And you know, I’m proud to work in education, as I do now. I’m proud of my writing, and I’m proud of my work in activism. And I’m proud of my art. But these distinctions between “the right kind of artist/art”, “contemporary art”, “REAL art”, and “fantasy illustration”….coming from my experiences, there is a terrible disconnect in what you’ve said about the struggles of artists of color, when you’ve seen even the “right kind of artist” fighting us pigs for the slops. When the “fight for recognition” turns to a fight for survival.

The world of Big Money and Big Privilege that you describe doesn’t only create the danger of being snubbed, having your ideas rejected because of racism, sexism, classism, and a failure to conform to their ideas about what art is “supposed” to be. The danger can be a lot more immediate than that.

I fail to see how you and swagjohncage policing what is and isn’t “real” art is anything but a tool of the elitist world you seem to be criticizing. All I see is a narrowing of the tiny crack that ANY artists of color, whether or not they appeal to your aesthetic preferences in contemporary art OR Contemporary Art, can creep through and try to make a living. We live in a world that crushes our gifts out of us, makes them irrelevant, makes them laughable. “Art??? Why don’t you get a REAL job!” takes on a whole new tone when you come from one of Those Neighborhoods.

We already live in a society that devalues art and artists, frames our work and our struggles as a frivolous choice (“starving artist, ha-HA”), that devalues this especially when coming from artists of color, queer artists, disabled artists, that expresses actual outrage when we use whatever media we can:

THIS is the world that rejects us. THIS is our struggle. This is being pushed so far into the margins that we practically fall off the edge of the world. Because the work of an Egyptian artist in digital media, challenging our colonized notions of what IS and ISN’T art, is not about breaking into the world of Big Money and Big Privilege so much as it is reaching ourselves.

The rules dictate that we cannot succeed. Honestly, your submission, which I plan to post shortly, highlights that perfectly. So we’re breaking the rules.

I had high hopes, I suppose, that more people would understand that. Seeing this reaction does make my optimism flag, but if I did have an Optimism Flag, as I’ve said before, this might possibly be it:

[illustration by palaceofposey]

Let’s Talk About College Elitism For The Billionth Time (Because Clearly It’s Not Getting Through)

A couple of days ago, a bunch of people in my class were discussing colleges because we’re all seniors and that’s going to be the only thing on our minds until January 1, when Regular Decision apps close. Somehow, we ended up talking about different programs of study within a university, and the subject quickly turned to a graduate of my high school who had taken a gap year to join the Marines because, among other things, he couldn’t afford college at the time.

He’s now at Columbia.

I never knew him personally, but I remember how proud I felt when I heard the story because it was the type of overcoming-struggle story that all of us at my high school strive for — after all, we’re inner-city kids preparing to enter a system historically unwelcome to us. We’re trying to make it, and he had made it — he’d enrolled through Columbia’s General Studies program, which was designed by Columbia especially for students who’d taken off school for a year for other pursuits or responsibilities. As the people in my class talked about his story and the people who knew him brought up how much he loved his college experience so far, a good friend of mine opened her mouth to speak and promptly blew me away with the disrespect and arrogance her words carried.

“You can basically sign up for General Studies,” she said. “It’s pretty much not even Columbia; his grades weren’t even that good in high school anyway.”

It denotes a hierarchy that only exists to people who think they’re better than others in the game of getting in, and it’s designed to further enforce the blatant elitism that this game was already geared towards.

That struck several nerves with me, because it was demeaning and dismissive and implied a score and stat-based hierarchy that shouldn’t exist in the college process. No one — and I do mean no one — is better than anyone else in the process of getting into college. Everyone who applies to top-tier schools, no matter what program, does so with the same goal in mind: to make a difference in the field that they’re pursuing. Yet throughout my high school experience, I’ve heard things ranging from “Cornell is the Rutgers of the Ivies,” to “NYU’s Liberal Arts Core program is pretty much fake NYU for CAS rejects.” And that pisses me off to no end because it denotes a hierarchy that only exists to people who think they’re better than others in the game of getting in, and it’s designed to further enforce the blatant elitism that this game was already geared towards.

Honestly, who gives a crap? If I become a part of Cornell Hospitality, a school I once heard referred to as the “stupid people major at Cornell,” it’s because I decided that I wanted to pursue my dream of revolutionizing the hotel industry at a prestigious Ivy League school that specializes in just that. It doesn’t, and will never, make me inferior to the Cornell student in the more selective Engineering school. Because guess what? Cornell Hospitality is still a part of the Cornell University, and nothing will change that.

We all have things we wish we could have to help us look better for our dream schools. I desperately wanted the National Honor Society, and was secretly crushed when I missed it by a rather small number of GPA points (my school ranks on a 100 scale.) I wish I’d had a thousand dollars to drop on Princeton Review SAT classes, because maybe then I would have broken a 2100 and been able to hold up my own against the NHS kids who didbreak 2100 and made damn sure everyone knew it. It’s easy to break under the college process, and this is why.

But at the same time, I have things to offer that no one else can. The only person who explicitly knows what’s going on my applications is me, and thus, I’m the only person who can accurately judge whether or not I deserve to be where I’ll end up. A friend of mine got accepted early decision to Cornell last year, and she wasn’t the NHS star student with a perfect SAT score — everyone who found out about her acceptance judged her because of that. But the people who made group chats about her and told her to her face that she didn’t deserve Cornell didn’t realize that she was a community leader. She was a vibrant speaker who blew away admissions officers with the eloquence of her interview process and the extracurriculars she carried, and she went the extra mile in her admissions process by establishing contact with admissions counselors and professors in her field of study.

It’s a blatant reinforcement of the very standards that make it harder for disadvantaged students and minorities to enter schools at all — because it validates the idea that even when they do, they’re still not worth it.

The point I’m trying to prove is that no one knows what anyone else can bring to the table, and so no one has any right to judge anyone else. No one has the right to take a dump on the accomplishments of another person by trying to degrade the way with which they achieved it. At the end of the day, a less-than-stellar SAT score doesn’t make or break the admissions process — your stats and your accomplishments are yours, and so the only person you’re allowed to judge based on that is yourself. You may have taken the billion-dollar prep classes and dropped another million on Barrons books, and you may have a GPA so pristine that the Mensa Society cowers under its perfection. But that doesn’t mean that only you and people like you have a chance at getting into college. That attitude, frankly, is shit. It’s a blatant reinforcement of the very standards that make it harder for disadvantaged students and minorities to enter schools at all — because it validates the idea that even when they do, they’re still not worth it.

Yeah, no thanks.

By David Guirgis, writing intern at The YUNiversity.

Read Feet of Clay because everyone should

I’ve been mulling over this review for a couple of weeks now, simply because I don’t know where to begin.

Terry Pratchett’s Feet of Clay isn’t a very long book. It’s a pretty standard 300-400 pages in regular paperback depending on the edition you get. It’s a pretty quick, easy read too, and in many ways follows a typical mystery/police procedural format.

You have your grizzled police chief, your honest, hardworking cops, your crime scene investigation (complete with primitive forensics), your key pieces of evidence that everyone sees but misses one key point about, your evasive lies from key witnesses for a variety of reasons, your innocents caught in the crosshairs, your kidnappings, your chases, your noir-esque brooding from several heroes, your final showdown between the hero and the evil plotter where they accidentally give themselves up despite the lack of proof.

But if Feet of Clay proves anything, it’s that you can take (and adhere to) the most basic genre standards and give a story so much more. Or, at least, the two masters can. Sir Terry Pratchett was certainly a master.

Keep Reading 

Tell me if you can spot what is similar about each of these hero-vs.-villain match-ups:
  • Superman vs. Lex Luthor
  • Batman vs. The Joker
  • Batman vs. Bane
  • Tony Stark vs. Obadiah Stane
  • Tony Stark vs. Whiplash

In each of those instances, the match-up is between a person who inherited his wealth and/or abilities and a self-made man who came up from nothing. And each time, we’re rooting for the former.

“What?” you say, “You want us to root for the Joker, you sick bastard?”

No. I’m saying the movie made it so that that was your only other choice.

–David Wong, from “The 5 Ugly Lessons Hiding in Every Superhero Movie”