I’m 7 years old, standing between the two dogwood trees in my backyard. It’s autumn; there’s a crispness in the golden, late afternoon air. I’ve taken the hood of my parka and thrown it over my head, but my arms are not in the sleeves. The coat falls over my narrow, bird-boned shoulders and down my back.
Like a cape, you see.
I’m cold, sure, but the important thing is that I’ve achieved the necessary look.
My next door neighbor/best friend Eric is here too. He’s done the same thing, coat-wise, because we both need capes. Because I’m Batman. He’s Robin.
That’s not technically correct: I’m Adam West. He’s Burt Ward.
He pretends to read from an imaginary computer punch card, with a bit more oomph this time: “Why is a welder like a woman in love?”
“Because,” I say. Intone, really, letting my thin voice undulate through the words as I speak them. “They both … carry a torch.”
We then leap into action. The specifics of said action elude me, today, but I’m reasonably certain it involved a lot of punching the air. Whiffed jabs and haymakers in the gathering suburban dusk, each one punctuated by a shout: “Biff!” “Bam!” “Pow!”
To be clear: neither Eric nor I understood what we were saying. Didn’t know what welders were, and certainly didn’t have any idea what “carry a torch” meant as a figurative expression. We were simply aping a scene we’d just witnessed on television, from a mid-afternoon rerun of a show that had enjoyed a cultural moment a decade before. Batman, it was called.
I’ve managed to collect a ton of official guitar songbook PDFs for various albums which are totally accurate and verified. I thought I’d make a masterpost for anyone who would like to use them! These links should send you to Google Drive and you can download them from there.
Yes, I am Italian.
Yes, I am pissed all we had was the 6th place after everything Gabbani did.
No, I don’t care about your opinion if all you have to say is “shut up your song was crap”.
Let me tell you something about Occidentali’s Karma.
If you just think it is funny to see a monkey on the stage but you think our song was trash, let me stop you right there.
It actually HAS a meaning and I know it’s not that easy to get it (some Italian people couldn’t, so). BUT. It is a critic about society made in a funny and catchy way and I see nothing wrong about it.
Francesco Gabbani put a lot of efforts in his song and in this contest and he kept updating us every day while he was in Kiev.
He was so hopeful and so was I.
So were we.
I don’t care about winning the Eurovision, honestly.
What I care about is that Italy is always seen as the Clown. Maybe sometimes we are, but this time we were not and I WON’T except critics about OUR song this time.
With that said, NAMASTÉ ALÉ, ce se rivede l'anno prossimo.
Tired of you niggas calling these build-a-Barbie females “thick” because she went to Dr. Miami or because she has a fat ass. If she has a fat ass she has a fat ass, that’s not thick B. Thick means WHOLE BODY nigga. She can have thick thighs, a thick ass, all types of shit, but if you’re calling HER thick, it’s her whole body and if you got a problem with her having rolls or stretch markets you a clown B
I blame drake dumb ass for getting y'all ignorant asses saying ya’ll like y'all women BBW and using Nicki Minaj as an example.
I swear the older I get, the more I value bad examples over good ones. It’s a good thing too, because most people are egotistical, neurotic, self-absorbed peons, insistent on wearing near-sighted glasses in a far-sighted world. And it’s this exact sort of myopic ignorance that has led to my groundbreaking new theory. I call it Mim’s Theorem of Monkey See Monkey Don’t, and what it boils down to is this: it is my belief that there are some people whose sole purpose of existence is to show the rest of how not to act.
This wasn’t just a story about Peggy getting a boyfriend; it was a story about Peggy getting free of trying to emotionally connect with Don Draper, which she’s been trying to do since the pilot. It was a story about Peggy stepping away from a relationship from which she gets nothing to make room for a relationship from which she gets something. Stan started out as a jerk, but Don stayed a jerk. Learning to stop throwing good emotional money after bad is one of the most important elements of adulthood; despite its cinematic-swoon elements, this was more than met the eye: it wasn’t just a story about getting what you’ve always dreamed of. It was just as much a story about when to give up.
I will do whatever you want, on video, but here’s the rub: you must post or send me a video of you doing the same thing first. Tag all vids with my username, and if you send them to me, let me know if they are safe for posting. Have fun, people, and remember: I’m not really very good at anything. Yay!
“Where we goin’ Mama?” You asked your mother, Amber, while swinging your feet up and down in the backseat of the car as you watched the road pass by out the window.
“We’re going to see your daddy.” She told you in a tone your three your old brain couldn’t process. She seemed sad but was using a happy tone with you.
“Daddy!” You shouted in an excited voice, your father worked a lot and you didn’t get the chance to see him often. He worked constantly with your uncle and was always driving around fighting the bad guys. There were only a few times a year when you got to see him; your birthday, father’s day, Christmas, and two or three weekends out of the year; so whenever you got to see him it was a big deal.
“I’m so excited to see Daddy, Mama!” You told her as you continued to swing your feet even faster as you grew more eager. “When we gonna get there”
“We’ll be there in about an hour, we’re going to Mr. Bobby’s house. Daddy and Uncle Dean are there.” She said with a smile.
Fifty minutes later your mom pulled up to Singer’s Auto Salvage and you were bounding up and down your car seat. “Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad.” You repeated happily over and over as you waited for your mother to open the backseat door so you could get out.
As she opened the door you looked up to the house and saw your father walking out with a confused look on his face, “Daddy!” You shouted as you ran towards him with your arms open in a ‘pick me up’ motion.
I have a character who did not have much interaction with others during her childhood. Would this have any lasting effects on her?
Being around other
people is CRITICAL for a child’s development.
Okay. So I’m going to
talk about two levels of isolation here.
The first level is going
to be the Romanian Orphanage level of neglect.
The backstory is a bit
complicated, but the upshot is that Romania suddenly had a hell of a lot of
unwanted children, most of which had to be raised in institutional orphanages.
There were not enough caregivers for the amount of children they had to deal
So what ended up
happening is that babies were left in their cribs, 24/7, and fed and changed on
a strict schedule. The babies learned not to cry, because it didn’t make a
caregiver come running any faster. They didn’t have toys; all they could do is
stare at their hands or the ceiling.
That lack of stimulation
was found to have pretty significantly negative effects as the kids grew up. These
kids are often physically stunted – they’re not as big as they should be for
their age. Their brains are often actually physically smaller. They have lower
IQs. They struggle with language. They also have problems with attachment.
Things do start to get
better if the character is put into a foster home quickly, but they may still have emotional and psychological problems (there are some links below for further research).
Now. The other level of
isolation I’m going to talk about is, for lack of a better term, the horror
stories. These are children who were raised in extreme isolation by severely
abusive caretakers, if they had caretakers at all.
Most children who are
completely isolated or severely deprived of interaction have not learned, or
have extreme difficulties with, language.
They also have
difficulty with basic motor skills. There’s something in our brain called
“mirror neurons.” @scriptbrainscientist will be able to elaborate more, but
basically it boils down to “Monkey see, monkey do.” We learn how to do things
because we mimic the behaviors of people around us. If there’s no one around
the character, they won’t know how to do things. The character won’t know how
to put on clothes or tie their shoes. They won’t know how to use a fork or
knife. They may not even know how to
Even if the character does have some social interaction, if
they are mostly isolated, the level of interaction they get isn’t enough to
foster normal development.
Now. That’s not to say
that the character won’t ever be able to develop language and learn those
skills. This kind of thing is not seen often enough for psychologists to make
that kind of a conclusion. But every report we’ve seen so far says that feral
or isolated kids never reach the level of functioning of same-age peers.
The best-studied case of
a child being raised in isolation is that of a girl who was nicknamed “Genie.”
I’m putting the rest of this post under the jump because what was done to her is nothing short of horrific.
This why I get so mad when people start listening to 6LACK, Chance The Rapper, Childish Gambino, or SZA. Cause if I would’ve been like “yo listen to this.” They gonna think that shit wack until it come on the radio and everyone got it on they Snapchat.
Y'all ain’t shit but mf bandwagons and mf monkey see monkey do ass people