If you would go out of your way to argue how easy it is for capital to automate away jobs when labor costs become too high, then you should probably know that you’re giving all kinds of credibility to those of us who advocate fully-automated luxury communism. I mean, think about it: you’re arguing that so much of human labor ISN’T NECESSARY because said jobs can be done by machines, and yet you STILL want the bulk of humanity to pointlessly scrape by laboring for the capitalist class, receiving meager wages to buy the shit they helped generate in the first place. The above billboard is a THREAT. Let’s not mince words – that billboard is bourgeois propaganda designed to turn the working class against each other and against the broader goals of resource democratization. “If you fight for a basic livable wage, just know that you’re easily replaceable, peon!”
This is what leftists mean when they say that capitalism is an economic system filled to the brim with tensions and contradictions; it’s also what they mean when they say that capitalism inevitably produces its own gravediggers. Automation is one of those gravediggers, and it’s a major one at that. As more and more jobs become automated in the coming decades, the working class will face widespread dispossession, ramping up revolutionary class consciousness in the process. At that point, capitalism will either focus on generating more superfluous jobs for people to work or set about instituting a universal basic income – regardless, the point is to keep enough scraps flowing downward so that people don’t call for a broader system change. In this way, capitalism’s ruling class can maintain control over the wealth-producing means of production and imperialist capital accumulation can continue unrestrained.
For these reasons, “more jobs” and universal basic incomes are not enough. We need to democratize the broader social infrastructure and eliminate the profit system. If you recognize how possible it is to automate away human labor, then you should defenestrate yourself out of the Overton Window and use some political imagination – cut out the unnecessary jobs, automate all the labor you can, produce for human need rather than elite profit, and you end up with drastically reduced working hours and bountiful leisure time. This is the essence of fully-automated luxury communism – the natural conclusion of the conditions that capitalism set in motion.
Be wary of automation in the present climate, but always trace it back to the class struggle. Robots taking our jobs SHOULD be cause for celebration; why should we treat these potential liberators as harbingers of dispossession? Technological advancements are pushing us exponentially towards a de facto post-scarcity world, where everyone’s needs can be comfortably met alongside their desires for community and leisure and entertainment, and yet we’re held back by Empire’s insistence on keeping the means of production hoarded under the command of a superfluous ruling class. As long as we are divided into capitalists and workers, humanity will never know full liberation.
i just started using watercolors, can you tell me about your process/share some tips?
Well first of all, congrats on trying watercolors! I’m by no means an expert yet but I’ll do my best to walk you through my process using some of the WIP pictures I have from previous pieces. There’s a ton to cover and I won’t get it all so feel free to ask more specific questions if you need help.
My first tip would be to play with whatever tools you have to figure out what feels right for you. If you don’t have any tools yet, I suggest the Sakura Koi Pocket Field Sketch Box (pictured below) since it’s really nice quality, comes with a water brush, and usually costs like $15-$25 depending on size/where you buy it. If that’s still outside of your price range, the first watercolors I ever did were with old crayola palettes and it worked out fine, it just took way more layers and time to get the color depth I wanted.
As for paper, I’m still looking for the perfect one but just make sure it’s watercolor paper (cold press means there’s a texture, hot press is smooth) or multimedia and not like, printer paper. As long as it’s relatively thick, it should be ok but might buckle when too much water is added.
Don’t worry too much about perfection when learning how to use your equipment. Make lines, blend colors, try making washes, etc. When I came back to watercolors, I mostly did a lot of meditative painting, where I doodled whatever felt right. Some of them even came out real cool looking??
When I sit down to do a more detailed piece or commission, I have a five-part process I pretty consistently use these days. It goes like this:
1) Traditional (or digital) sketch/concept phase. The below pic is from a pop-art commission concept where I really liked the flow of her hair.
2) Digital lineart (cleaning up/refining concept sketches)
3) Print the lineart and lightbox it to watercolor paper using either a hard graphite pencil (very light lines) or colored lead. I still lightbox with this ancient hunk of junk but you can even use a window or your computer screen (VERY CAREFULLY) to lightbox if you don’t have one.
Here’s what some of my pieces looks like after being transferred:
I think it’s important to note that you should keep a piece of scrap paper under your hand while working on the watercolor paper, since the oils in your skin can lead to areas where the paint won’t bind to the paper properly. I’ve had cases where I finished a background wash only to find an absolutely perfect thumbprint in the center of it.
4) Ink the lines. Make sure your pens are waterproof. If they’re not, I’ll talk about a way to get around that later so skip right to painting for now.
I used micron technical pens for the above piece. If you don’t know if you have waterproof pens, make a test chart like the one below. Mine involved copics, watercolor, and super heavy scrubbing to see how easily the pen came off when wet.
I’ve also “inked” after painting by using more concentrated lines of watercolor instead of actual ink. The below painting was too cute and pastel and I didn’t want to ruin it with black lines, so I used that technique here (along with some red pencil)
5) Paint! I’m not really consistent with this step but my main tip is: BE PATIENT! If you want flat blocks of color, wait until each wash is fully dry before moving on to one next to it. If you don’t, they’ll bleed into each other. This is also true when trying to create shadows with hard edges instead of soft blending. Not being patient enough is my #1 cause of “crap I have to start this over”.
(The weird coloration on the lines above is actually dried frisket I put over certain sections of the piece to protect them but it ended up being more of a hassle than anything else for this style of piece.)
So, what if you didn’t have waterproof pens? You can easily reverse steps 4&5 and paint first, wait for it to dry very well, and then ink (shown below).
The finished piece looked like this:
I hope this was helpful!
If you want to see any of my WIPs/ask me questions, you can find me on Twitter and Instagram.
Wow, a lot of people seem to like my sketches. Since I doubt I’ll ever really clean these fellas up, I guess I can just put em up for viewing. Sorry for the image spam folks but thank you all kindly for the nice comments!
This was back when I first got into the series. Started with Tales. Done in-between breaks from my Final Year Animation Project in school. Woot!
1. Automatic payments. Don’t enroll in automatic bill payments unless you’re extremely comfortable with the company. This will prevent companies from charing your bank account or credit card extra without your consent. For example, I’m confident that Birchbox won’t overcharge me, but have less faith in Verizon.
2. First aid kit. Purchasing a first aid kit should be one of the first things you do when moving out. They generally cost around $25 and include items such as cold compresses, burn cream, and more bandaids then you will ever need. I purchased one when I first moved out and it lasted me 2 and ½ years before I needed to replenish it.
3. Dishwasher wanted. Real talk- having a dishwasher has changed my life. I used to spend forty-five minutes to an hour doing dishes every day, sometimes twice a day. Now I spend fifteen minutes.
4. Pee after sex! Ladies, UTIs are no joke. Get in the habit of peeing or showering after sex to minimize your risk. 50% of women will get them in their lifetime, and the medication will fuck with your birth control. Guys can get UTIs too!
5. Milk. More expensive doesn’t always mean higher quality, but in the case of milk it makes a huge difference. Organic milk lasts significantly longer than any milk you can purchase for under $2. Like, over a week longer.
6. Winter-proof. Is your apartment freezing? Winter-proof your windows! You can buy sheets of “window plastic” to seal off gaps, cracks, etc. These will make a huge difference in your apartment’s temperature.
7. Scented trash bags. Are literally the same price as regular trash bags, but help keep your trash smelling manageable.
8. Chalkboard paint. This is a wonderful invention that turns your boring walls into one continuous canvas. Get your landlord’s permission and know that you will be required to repaint before moving out.
9. Shopping list. Keep a piece of scrap paper in your kitchen and jot down any items/produce you may run out of during the week. When it’s time to go shopping, you’ll already have most of your list completed.
10. Food hygiene. Rewrap/repackage your deli meats and cheeses a few days after purchasing them. Wrapping paper has a shorter shelf life than the products themselves and will cause them to spoil early.
What if Jack and Bitty meet when Bitty works at a homeless shelter and Jack runs a café
looking for somewhere to donate all the excess food
The first time he closes with a huge bag of pastries and sandwiches he can’t resell in the morning, he googles: extra food what? and “Aids Care Ocean State, Providence” is the first result to pop up. He puts everything in the bags he keeps around for take-out haphazardly, puts those in a bigger plastic bag and follows the direction that google maps gives him. He’s not thinking of much beyond someone eating the food so he doesn’t have to throw it out but even those thoughts fall out of his head when he meets the blond man who’s in charge of the kitchen.
[if Jack starts making more to bring well, it’s his business and he can run it how he likes. Besides properly packaging and dating the food is basically what he does anyways, and the shelter’s on his way home so he’s happy to stop]
Write me a ficlet about Stiles finding random love poems/notes written on little scraps of paper stuffed in weird places, like between the seats in the Jeep, in the pockets of hoodie he swore he just washed so how could there be intact paper in there, in his shoes, under his pillow. Who is writing all these notes and how do they keep randomly appearing on Stiles person!?!?!
This is unbeta-d, and I am subjecting you dear reader(s?) to poetry written by me masquerading as English!Major Derek Hale. BASICALLY I’m SORRY ABOUT THE CRAP POETRY OK. also im really fuckin pissed off about the spacing of the poems but tumblr is adamant about pretending to not know what the fuck im trying to do when i try and reformat it i need to stop before i just delete this whole post in a fit of RAGE
The first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t think anything of it. He figures he just wrote it himself in English and then forgot. It’s just a neglected scrap of paper hiding amidst other papers under his desk, sacrificed on the altar of a weekly allowance with everything else he throws out as he cleans his room. He only really glanced at it anyway, he was preoccupied with being pissed off at Derek for being Derek, thinks it said something about heartbeats and irregular spaces. So that was the incident, he supposes.
The second time he’s got his hand stuffed in the crease of Roscoe’s passenger seat in a desperate search for just one fucking quarter, just one, and withdraws a crumpled piece of paper instead. “How long has that been there?” Stiles asks himself as he de-crumples it to read it. He snorts. Obviously quite a while, it’s a poem, and Stiles knows he didn’t write this one, which means it’s circa the Scott/Allison Era.
it was Tuesday
you didn’t know I was there
“Not half bad Scotty,” Stiles murmurs, not bothering to finish the rest of it as he tosses it aside and resumes the quest for one measly quarter cause he just wants a burger. Out of life, all he wants is to eat a burger right now. It’s not so much to ask? Right?
He bitches and moans to Scott about his inability to find a quarter and thus eat a burger, but forgets to ask him about the poem thing. The next time he sees Derek, Derek flips him a quarter with a smirk. “Oh, fuck you,” Stiles says, but pockets the quarter and eats him that fucking burger later that night, after they have all managed, miraculously, to not die. “Victory comes in all forms,” Stiles informs Scott sagely in between mouthfuls. So that’s the coincidence, in all its glory.
Through Dangers Untold ch 1 (Elucien Labyrinth AU)
Elain has made a grave mistake and wished her sisters away to the dangerous realm of the goblins. To get them back, she’ll have to navigate a maddening labyrinth—and go toe-to-toe with its powerful, enigmatic ruler. Elain finds herself drawn to the red-haired Goblin King, but is he the tragic, lovesick prince from her mother’s stories, or a wicked faerie who’s only toying with her?
Their mother did not spend a great deal of time with the Archeron sisters, even before she died. Their father was in charge of their education, and he passed it on to a rotating series of tutors; the nanny minded them at play, the cooks fed them, the dogs cuddled with them when they were upset.
But mama Archeron did one thing, often in her elaborate party dresses, putting them to bed while her guests laughed and drank downstairs: she told stories. Elain remembers them well, remembers how often little Feyre fell asleep halfway through, how Nesta would sulk and declare that she didn’t need stories, she was too old for them, and would end up listening raptly by the end anyway.
She remembers one story best of all, would request it over and over again.
“The Goblin King,” her mother says, her beautiful painted mouth tugging into a smile. “Was one of the High Fae, a very long time ago.”
What would Mcree Soldier 76 and reaper do if a stray dog wouldn't stop following them around?
Author’s Note: I’d adopt it. Its my dog now.
This isn’t really an X reader request but I thought I’d do it anyways. ^^
He always wanted a dog.
Way back in his younger years had he dreamed of having a canine sidekick much like in the movies.
Sadly, even now he knows he still cant much to his disappointment. Overwatch can’t house animals and he most likely won’t be around much to look after it.
McCree would give it a name. Something simple like Lassie, Buddy or Spot for the time being.
Letting it follow him around while he went about his buisness.
Hell, he even played a game of stick fetch for a while before having to report back onto the drop ship.
In his last moments with the dog McCree pats it’s head, gushing over it with compliments and praises.
“Who's a good boy/girl?” He cooed as the dog waged it’s tail happily. “You are! Yes, its you!” He continues on for a few moments before he really had to go. McCree pats the dog on the back lightly before standing up to take his leave. “Alright pal, you take care of yourself, ya hear?” He remarks. The dog barks back a response making the Cowboy chuckle.
It shocks Soldier how the dog resembles an younger dog he had back on the farm within his youth.
Though, this one is much older with peppering white hairs along its muzzle
It’s a beautiful dog ,he notes, and it pains him that he can’t take it with him. Always having a soft spot for animals.
Much more when he finds out its a stray with no home to go back too.
“Two pea’s in a pod then, huh boy?” Soldier mutters, scratching the back of dogs ears.
He feels like he’s spoiling the dog when it flips over to have its stomach rubbed. However, he obliges with no notion to stop anytime soon.
But alas he has to get a move on. Such is the life of a Vigilant.
Soldier would leave the dog outside a no kill shelter. A bag of food, some money and a small note left with nothing but a “Take good care of them.” written within its folded parts.
It’s starting to bother him how it wont go away.
Maybe in his past life he’d take the dog in, have him be some kind of Blackwatch canine unit but the times are different.
He doesn’t have the time nor patience for being a pet owner.
He tries to scare it away not having the heart to kill it. It’s not doing him any harm in wanting his attention but he can’t afford to get attached.
The dog, however, seems unfazed. Tilting his head curiously at the wraiths antics while wagging his tail happily.
Reaper would really just want to get rid of this clingy companion without doing it any harm.
He decides to drop it off in a neighborhood where the community would take care of it. The types where kids would play with it and the older folks would give it enough table scraps to keep it fed.
“Be a good dog and stay.” He’d warn, watching it as he left. Glad to have that ‘problem’ solved.
Damian totally hid a pig in his room. No one saw it, not even Alfred, because Damian is a sneaky MF, but Damian just HAD to get it away from that farm, it was too precious to become somebody’s meat! He went about 2 weeks before Tim went into Damian’s room to look for his coffee pot (Damian’s just that evil.) it took a while to get used to the fact that there was an ACTUAL pig in THIS room, then he remembered it was Damian, so… When the demon finally got home, Tim slyly dropped a hint that he knew about the pig. Damian did a double-take, he was so caREFUL HOW DID DRAKE FIGURE IT OUT?! After Damian was done yelling at Tim, he started attacking him, telling him that he couldn’t take away Terrance (the pig), but Tim wasn’t going to take him away, he was going to help him hide Terrance… For the small price of every weekend with that cute lil guy. Damian was reluctant to accept the terms, but if he hadn’t Terrance would go back to the farm, and Damian is smart enough to know what happens to farm animals eventually.
Now Damian has to keep feeding Terrance his scraps from dinner everyday so he knows who his favorite is. (Tim feeds him cake)
He accused me of leaving the back door open, then when I wrote back saying it wasn’t me and that I didn’t appreciate the accusation he ‘apologised’ and said that since all the other occasions it has been somebody in my flat who left the door open, he just assumed.
I just wrote back saying I didn’t know why he thought it was my flat who kept doing that, since we are literally the apartment who would be most easily accessible if somebody used the open door to get in.
And he just replied back with an 'unrelated note’ about how the window to my room was open at night, and how he can get somebody from the neighbour patrol to come give me a chat on security.
I just politely told him not to and that I was conscious of my own security. Seriously fuck him.
I hate the way this middle age man condescends to me because I’m younger and a woman.
Also to make matters worse while he is perfectly happy to call me out on thing he thinks he is right about, he gets defensive when people confront him about stuff, like the fact he keeps leaving food scraps around for the foxes.
you remake yourself into something you think people can love.
keep the skin, scrap everything else
rework your personality, your temper, your likes and dislikes
until you are nothing but a husk hollowed out and filled so that you aren’t really the same person at all
you stop laughing like you used to,
because you’ve been told the wildness of it is ugly
you keep your hair longer because people like it that way
and stall the discussion of your gender so that people won’t ask questions
keep the correct pronoun usage to a few close friends, as a selfish allowance
you steal bits and pieces where you can
a phrase you like
the way someone walks
paste them into this blank self you’ve created
and try to rebuild from other people’s parts
some things are new, specific only to you
but really, isn’t it all new?
the days pass
and you don’t understand.
you thought people could love this
could love you
if only you were easier to love
but this is still you
if only something you have created