just not the recycled ones that

We give Japanese cartoons a hard time for recycling the same episode premises in every show, but if you think about it, not only do North American cartoons do the same thing, our stock episode premises are weird as hell.


Japanese cartoons have beach episodes.

American cartoons have that episode where the protagonist accidentally creates a whole bunch of duplicates of himself, all of whom later die horribly, with the last one standing giving the protagonist some valuable bit of life advice just before expiring.

Japanese cartoons have tournament episodes.

American cartoons have that episode where the focus character misuses time travel and accidentally erases herself, then goes on a tour of a world where she never existed and discovers that everything is terrible, because apparently her presence was literally the only thing holding back the Apocalypse.


LoT ladies + the old west

modern dregs in high school would make the most interesting squad. they’d represent everyone, their friendships completely demolishing societal barriers. like there’s that one kid with a serious glare, stuck in an everlasting emo phase who only wears black and never talks in class but is actually a lowkey nerd that practices magic in secret.

there’s an adorable but nauseating on again off again couple consisting of the loud mouthed and breathtakingly beautiful homecoming queen who has the whole school under her spell and the moody but talented star athlete who’s never done anything wrong in his life except for getting caught making out under the bleachers.

there’s also the socially awkward, perpetually mistaken for a freshman, straight A’s all of his life band kid that blushes and stutters at any sort of attention. he dates the most charming boy in school that treats the world like a stage (and he’s some sort of one man show), who’s now betting on luck to get him into college because his inability to sit still and focus makes his grades suffer.

there’s even a shady foreign exchange student that once accidentally on purpose set his lab station on fire and put it on snapchat, nearly getting expelled until he lied about not being able to comprehend the lesson.

and lastly there’s the quiet girl that spent so much of her time buried beneath books in the library no one knew she existed until she launched an anti-bully campaign that went viral because she publicly called out the school’s principal for doing nothing disciplinary about the harassment. now she’s the student body president and might be dating the emo kid?? who knows?? they’re good with secrets.

heres an actually helpful executive dysfunction tip that isnt “just do one thing so you can do other things” or some bullshit

narrate what you need to do. out loud. in the present tense and first person. “i’m picking this shirt up off the floor. i’m picking is empty can off the floor. i’m putting the can in the recycling. i’m putting the shirt in the hamper. i’m taking the hamper to the laundry room.” etc. it’s one of the only actually effective things ive figured out. i think what happens is it tricks me into thinking im already doing the task, which is the hard part (starting). keep doing it as you do the task until the initial frustration is alleviated. give it a shot if you want. or dont im a blogger not a cop

I realize that people make human AU Pearl young and stuff b/c it’s more relatable but please consider with me that human Pearl would be the weird ex-military neighbor who wakes up at 5 am every morning and calls the cops if the recycling truck leaves the bin in front of her mailbox and keeps to herself a lot and breaks out a leaf blower half the size of her body to sweep 6 maple seedpods of her front sidewalk. She’s got Rose’s flag hanging on one of those brackets on the porch. Every week or so her son comes over for dinner and promises the neighbor kids that his mom’s super nice if you get to know her she just likes everything just so and meanwhile she’s leaning out the screen door like “steven move the bin out of the way of the mailbox” “okay” “that’s a federal offense you know” “i know you tell me every time i’m here”

There’s 6 cars up on blocks in the backyard and every spring she trims the lilac hedges with a sword

  • for reference, i have one swatchmaster.jpeg that i use for all my overwatch colored pictures.
  • don’t panic about having to get ref every time, just recycle one base color template for every pic,it keeps the pictures consistent.
  • another easy way to check is in color value, by changing the picture to black & white you can see the tonal variations differently than looking in color.

feel free to use my base color palette if you like.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice on how to write poetry? I want to get better, but I don't know how to start. (I love your writing, btw.)





This sounds like not-actually-advice but it is true! My poetry suffers when I’m not reading voraciously and widely and with fine detail attention as well as happy abandon. My phrases and ideas start recycling themselves like stale airplane cabin oxygen. Reading keeps your creative spark alive in a really astonishing way, and if you stop feeding your little brain synapses with fresh, weird, quality content, creative death is assured.

Are you reading? Good! Now imitate! Rip off ideas, pilfer tropes, kidnap characters, plagiarize plot-lines…Imitation isn’t just the sincerest form of flattery, it’s the best way to practice stringing together a sentence and is the gateway to original ideas. I cannot stress the usefulness of fanfiction in this regard. I got my start writing fanfiction, and occasionally still pen a one-shot for my own enjoyment because fanfiction allows you to build a coherent, lyrical, effective narrative around the scaffolding of existing, working narratives. There’s nothing in original writing you can’t learn writing fanfiction: flashbacks, character development, dialogue, plot, romance, you name it, fanfics’ got it.

It’s also a great idea to try and write poems in forms you seen before: acrostic, sonnet, villanelle, iambic pantameter, the lot. Don’t like writing in a set form? Great, me too. I’m still going to tell you to do it, because it builds writing muscles. Popular poetic structures found on tumblr count too, I’m no snob. You know the ones:

I. hymns written in blood and stardust

about Patroclus, Icarus, Lolita, the lot:

pretty dead boys with fragile collarbones

and woman-kings wearing weaponized lipstick.

II. we share ichor-sweet kisses in my parent’s church 

      and you whisper:

III. maybe the stories we always about us, after all. 

(I write this parody lovingly, some of my favorite poems follow this form, and I’ve written a number of them. Like, a lot)

Find poems you like and write responses to them! Or pick a theme that you like thinking about and just freewrite about it forever, then pick out phrases you want to string together into something new. There are no rules! Only that you write! And of course, that you remember imitation is healthy and good so long as you aren’t publishing content plagiarized in word or form, and that you don’t turn in a well-structured short story to your undergradaute workshop class only to have your professor point out in front of everyone that “this is masterful work…but it’s also Donna Tartt’s Secret History”.  Because I did that. Lit professors have read everything you have, kiddos, and no amount of clever deviation from the original can disguise a loving homage.

That’s what I’ve got for you to start with. Since youo like my work (and thank you for saying so) check out my linked “poetry that knocks me on my ass” tag; there’s a lot of poems that inspired me there. Happy writing! And please, do write. Even if you think it isn’t good. The world always needs new poems, and I believe in you. 

Analysis of NH moments being recycled from SNS

As suggested by @kerosenestars

I think we all know The Last was a bullshit parade…so I’m just going to focus on the canon material in the manga.

1. The way Hinata talks about protecting Naruto is the same way he talks about protecting Sasuke.

2. The scenes where they talk about dying for the other one are almost identical.

3. Hinata shielding Naruto during the war (which lead to Neji’s death) is similar to when Sasuke protected Naruto from Haku’s needles, YEARS before.

4. Sasuke was always a trigger for the nine tails so, they made Naruto whip out two more tails when Hinata seemingly dies. Keep in mind, the situation was already fucking terrible and would have made him release it eventually.

5. The way Naruto and Hinata are positioned together as a two-man squad is something you would normally see with Naruto and Sasuke.

6. Neji had commented in the past that Naruto could save Sasuke and before his death, he made a comment about how Hinata was willing to die for Naruto.

7. Hinata talked about always chasing Naruto but it’s more than obvious that Naruto was after Sasuke. Kakashi even said that Sasuke had “always been there in front of his eyes”.

The difference? The feelings between Naruto and Sasuke were mutual.

NH can have our scraps, that just proves that there was indeed something between Naruto and Sasuke. They both watched each other since childhood, while Hinata watched Naruto. She aspired to be like Naruto, while he aspired to be like Sasuke and vice versa. 

I’m sure there are are more examples that I would encourage anyone to add. These are just some specific ones I had screencaps saved for. As you can see, the most iconic NH moments are just cheap ripoffs of SNS and that’s really all they have. 

Both Standing Rock and the infamous desert art festival (in its early pre-police days) are examples of temporary autonomous zones, which I will refer to as “TAZ,” because even if it wasn’t already an acronym, it just sounds badass.

This term, invented by anarchist philosopher and sweet-ass-name-haver Hakim Bey, refers to “temporary spaces that elude formal structures of control.” Building a TAZ can be a great protest tactic. You just pick a spot where your presence can disrupt something in need of disruption and build a town around it.

There was no strict hierarchy at Standing Rock. One of the first things we saw driving into the camp was a large series of tents set up as essentially a gigantic free closet full of winter wear for all who needed it. There were also camps, and sections of camps, dedicated to providing free coffee for all. There were camps which cooked meals with donated ingredients for everyone (we ate buffalo stew and buttered vegetables), and camps that handled recycling.

There were camps where both trained medical professionals and nonsense medical professionals were on hand to perform emergency medicine, give back rubs, and do whatever the fuck Reiki is. There was a camp of legal experts and a camp full of press liaisons. They weren’t hired for the event; they showed up, found other people with similar skills, and started doing whatever it is they did best. We considered starting a dick joke tent, but then assumed they already had one.

We did occasionally hear talk of “elders,” which got us all excited about the possibility of learning a new Dragon Shout, but it turns out they weren’t that kind of elder. One night, we heard an announcement over a bullhorn at the main fire that the elders had advised everyone to head back to their camps for the evening, since it might drop below freezing. It was advice, not an order. A liaison at a camp where U.S. Military veterans gathered to pool their skills told us they listened to advice from the elder council, “but we are here to serve the people, just as when we were deployed.”

How Standing Rock Gave Us Tactics For The New Millennium

More from the tea-loving history teacher

His room was always a complete disaster of old student projects and weird antiques. We’re talking paintings on the floor, a box of old hats, weird Egyptian-looking statues. I’m pretty sure Tut’s tomb was more organized than this guy.

I once asked him for one of my projects back after he had handed out everyone else’s. He pulled it out of a recycle bin at the far end of the room and explained that no, it was good work, that’s just where he keeps stuff.

Along with not owning spoons, he also never washed out his teapot. I’m pretty sure there were tea stains inside it older than I am. The whole class breathed a collective sigh of relief when he accidentially broke it and had to buy a new one.

He used to play us movies in our ancient civilizations class on an old VCR. Not sure how he managed to get 300 on VHS but hey, I was 14 and not gonna complain.

At one point our VP buzzes down to his room on the intercom in the middle of watching 300. Since his VCR looks like it was put together with parts from about 3 different VCRs, he understandably had trouble finding the pause button. The VP had to listen to a solid minute of fighting and shouting before he finally got it to stop. His excuse? “Sorry, we were just blowing up…….Korea.” No idea where he got that from but the VP then had to listen to a solid 3 minutes of our class dying of laughter.

We spent several periods in the ancient civilizations course playing RISK. Pretty sure everyone who finished that class ended up with a slight taste for world domination.

Did I mention he was my favourite?

Consider this

Enjolras who loves to banter and make witty jokes with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. They have a constant back and forth between the three of them that moves very quickly, so to everyone on the outside it seems they all have a quick wit.

But the thing is that Enjolras actually has to think for days, sometimes weeks to think up witty responses. He really is only comfortable with scripted dialogue like his speeches or an argument with a bigot (who always use the same lines so he has his responses prepared).

With Combeferre and Courfeyrac though, he’s known them for so long that all their wit is recycled and every time it comes back around Enjolras adds something new that he’d been thinking on for weeks. It seems natural but its actually one of the best representations of the fact that they’ve been friends forever.

But then in comes Grantaire who just wants to engage with Enjolras the same way because that’s one of the only things he’s good at (from his point of view). But whenever he makes a witty remark or a good point in an argument, Enjolras just turns away and doesn’t reply back. So he thinks that Enjolras must hate him because he never will go back and forth with him the same way as with others.

The problem is that Enjolras is continuing those arguments in his head and he has new planned responses for next time, but much to his frustration, there’s never a next time! Ever single time they debate Grantaire is using an new argument or joke that Enjolras isn’t prepared for and all of his new scripts go to waste.

The situation is finally resolved when Enjolras thinks of the best response to something R has said, its a good point, its a pun, it encorporates a different argument that they’ve had before, but he thought of it a week after their conversation.

But this time its too good of a response so Enjolras clings to it and doesn’t let it go - a month passes - two month, and no opportunity to use it comes up and he’s just so frustrated.

Finally he texts Grantaire in the middle of the night saying “Remember that point you made two months ago? Well consider this”

And Grantaire is stunned and delighted and he texts back with a response immediately.

He doesn’t hear back for two days but Enjolras eventually thinks of something to say and texts back and it continues on like that. Just slowly texting back and forth.

They still don’t debate at meetings or in person but they have that text chain that’s dedicated just to banter back and forth and both of them are really happy.

(and then idk, with the pressure off in real conversations to be witty they start to talk for real and then they ~fall in love~ the end)

When You’re a Witch (Pt. 6)

Me: *browsing through the liquor and wines section at CVS*

Other Customer: One of those days, huh?

Me: What? No. I just like the bottles. *proceeds to buy the prettiest bottle*

Later that evening…

Me: I may be drunk, but this bottle is gonna be good witch oil!

when you eat dead plants and animals their molecules are rearranged to make up your body. when you die and decompose, the materials will be used by protists and bacteria and then become parts of plants that are then eaten by other animals. the atoms in your body are reused by other organisms. you have your ancestors inside of you. you have dinosaurs and slaves and slave holders and murderers and saints and everyone making up your body. no one knows what will happen to your consciousness, but the matter that makes up your body will be recycled and reused in the bodies of other organisms.

Cheer Up Post #4749 - Recycled Computers Edition

francaise-de-coeur would also like a post full of recycled computers. Here you go!

Art Masterpost

***Disclaimer: Most of the images used do not belong to me. If you see one that’s yours, and you would like credit or to have it removed/replaced, please just ask.

Want your own Cheer Up Post? Find out how. Or see the others.

I just watched Rogue One and I was pleasantly surprised. It clearly wasn’t as weighted down by The Legacy as The Force Awakens. Although I still like TFA, this felt more new and not like it recycled as many old ideas.

They missed so many opportunities to include women, which annoyed me greatly.  But the main cast, the people with the most speaking roles, contained very few white dudes, for once.

I find sci-fi that is just super white just… not believable. If we transport humanity into a distant future where we have colonized the stars or whatever, there’s no reason the population of the galaxy would have the same racial/ethnic makeup as a Swedish village in the 1400th century. 

So I appreciate that Star Wars finally actually try to have a diverse cast. Next step is to make more than 1 in 20 people women.

pacific northwestern gothic:

  • you drive an eco-friendly car and you recycle, but you leave the lights on all night, just in case. 
  • you find yourself lost in an endless sea of coffee shops, unable to tell corners apart, trapped in a tightly woven web of independently owned shops next to smaller chains, kiosks in every open place they can be wedged. you lose time, lose sleep, and in your delirium, you fill another bunch card, redeem your free latte, and continue your fruitless search for a way out.
  • there’s a new starbucks down the street. there’s always a new starbucks down the street. 
  • no one’s ever heard of your favourite band, because they don’t exist. you could’ve sworn they did, you had all their records - real records, on vinyl, you’re a collector - just last week, but they’re gone now. you try telling a friend to look them up, but you find yourself unable to remember their name. 
  • on sunny days, you feel ill at ease. some things should not be seen in such clear light. your eyes are not adjusted to such brightness.
  • children on a field trip watch the salmon run, their flesh deteriorating from their living bodies as they beat themselves against rocks in a macabre last battle upstream to lay their eggs where they first hatched. the children watch for hours in the cold as the fish, some almost as big as they are, fight to reach their spawning grounds before their bodies fail and fall to pieces. on the bus ride home, they laugh as if they had seen nothing. 
  • your neighbours, your friends, even you, discuss proudly how progressive and open-minded you are, how different this place is from the rest of america - as they decline, we shake our heads, grateful to live in such a liberal utopia. here, things are greener. here, people are kinder. we don’t have dark secrets. you smile, because the state history curriculum doesn’t talk about the laws that stayed on book for far longer than we care to admit. you laugh, blissful in ignorance, or in avoidance, of the fact that we are no better, no brighter, than anywhere else. 
  • you’re tell yourself you’re a good person, who doesn’t judge on appearances. you applaud yourself for your open-mindedness. there must be another reason you feel so disquieted when someone who looks too different from you gets too close to you in public.
  • mount st. helens begins to smoke. something stirs at the bottom of crater lake. there’s a wailing sound coming from behind multnomah falls. 
  • a friend mentions that they’ve been hiking a lot lately, and you say you’d love to get out there more, it’s just hard to find the time. the truth is, you’ll never forget what you saw out there, in that deep part of the woods, at twilight, having long lost the trail. 
  • there’s a flavour you just can’t place in the newest limited edition holiday ale from your favourite microbrewery. you buy another six pack, and drink until you can’t taste it anymore.
  • you laugh at the religious, but some part of you wonders if it would be easier to sleep at night, believing something, anything, was looking out for you.