unspeak

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Absurd Creature of the Week:

The Adorable Mexican Mole Lizard Has a Disgusting (and undeserved) Reputation

by Matt Simon

The myth:

Should you be foolish enough to drop trou and answer the call of nature in the wilderness, you’ll find the beast will “enter your body by the most unspeakable means,” said Carl Franklin, a herpetologist at the University of Texas at Arlington. “And it’ll rip your guts, shred them to pieces.” The death is slow, not to mention embarrassing…

OK, IT’S NOT AT ALL TRUE:

The creature, a reptile called the Mexican mole lizard (Bipes biporus), is in fact totally adorable and completely harmless—but it sure is a powerful myth. A few years ago Franklin was driving through Baja with his wife searching for the critters, and pulled up to two cowboys. He handed them a picture of the mole lizard and asked if they’d seen any lately, and “they just twisted up their faces in disgust, and they went over and saw my license plate is from Texas.” They then proceeded to admonish him for coming to their country for such things…

(read more: Wired Science)

photographs by Carl Franklin

quartz-poker replied to your post: Bronies corrupting children

I think our culture is obsessed with sex the wrong way. That it’s somehow both desirable and bad at the same time. Sure, children shouldn’t be having it, but it’s not some great unspeakable evil.

Sex needs to be embraced and given the proper education. If people were properly educated about it, they wouldn’t have to worry so much about it.

Garden Party

we will make the poem symmetrical,
set like a dinner table, poised with one hand
on the painted porcelain teapot,
sugar cubes just under the lid, flower vase
teeming with roses daisies marigolds and
all the unspeakable things that bob
between us as ice cubes in glass goblets do.
you will wear lavender, and thyme in your hair,
i will bring my best blazer, the navy one
whose buttons i sewed on myself,
and we can waltz ‘round the garden
like fairies waiting for their wings to bloom.

like fairies waiting for our wings to bloom,
we waltz ‘round the garden with careful feet,
my pockets full of needle and thread,
the elbows of my blazer grown ragged,
your updo falling apart, lavender-full hands shaky.
the ice cubes sparkle from in the glass goblets
like unspeakable prayers, ask us
for roses daisies marigolds, enough sunlight
to sweeten what hides under our tongues
and inside the painted porcelain teapot
as we wait for something greater to sweep us
into the organized poetics of love.

work the music
play my hair
help to cook
an occasional meal

voice the word
speak my names
wet to dry
an unspeakable fear

between our lips
across our hips
fingertips

dive the eyes
match my smile
talk to sleep
on intemperate nights

sing the song
hum my ear
tell to truth
all unforgettable

walking air
walking the air
walking upon air

It’s about him coming to terms with the fact that he can do a better job if he has a little bit of morality, feeling and emotion and to be able to play with those things without necessarily being taken over by them.
— 

Benedict Cumberbatch on Sherlock in Series 3 (x)

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murder girls | what if some of marvel’s baddest women got together for a relentless bloodsoaked manhunt to cleanse the world of an unspeakable evil?

leave your manners at the door, ladies. things are about to get nasty.

[featuring elektra, gamora, moonstone, angela, hippolytamagik, and domino]

ES Special CD - RinHaru Moments
  • ES Special CD - RinHaru Moments
  • Free! -ES - Special Event CD Track 3
Play

rip/translation by fencer-x via here

[2:06]
Rei: Despite appearances, Haruka-sempai’s probably putting some serious thought into something like a “Mackerel Man Contest”!
Nagisa: Yeah, yeah!
Makoto: You really aren’t helping his case, Nagisa and Rei…!
Rin: What the hell is a ‘Mackerel Man’ in the first place~? You’re probably the only one of those in existence, Haru!
Haru: ! ✧*。(˶ㅎ_ㅎ˶)✧*.
Makoto: DON’T LOOK SO HAPPY AT THAT, HARU! Rin isn’t complimenting you, you know!

[4:09]
Makoto: Geez, we’re moving on! Does ANYONE else have any good ideas?
Haru: Me.
Makoto: Haru, go ahead.
Haru: “Northern Stoplight Loosejaw-kun Quiz”.
Makoto: Eh, Haru—what is that?
Rin: That character from that weird deep-sea fish video game?
Haru: You… Northern Stoplight Loosejaw-kun is super effective, but difficult to level up. If you become friends with one, you can even go to the deep trench areas!
Rin: Who the hell cares!?
Rei: I feel like… only you would know the answers, Haruka-sempai…
Makoto: Haru, how about we at least make it a general deep-sea fish quiz…?
Haru: I don’t know any other deep-sea fish.
Rin: Guess we should at least put it on the board… “Deep-sea Fish Quiz”…

[5:55]
Makoto:
Anyone else…? Oh, right! We haven’t heard your suggestion yet, Rin! Do you have anything?
Rin: Huh? Me? Lemme think… Umm…. Uhh….. How about, who can hold their breath the longest underwater?
Haru: *。✧(˶ㅎ。 ㅎ˶)*.✧  !!
Nagisa: Ooh! Haru-chan’s eyes are sparkling!
Rei: It appears the eyes are more eloquent than the tongue!
Rin: “Breath-holding Tournament…”

The sort of feminism that sells is the sort of feminism that can appeal to almost everybody while challenging nobody, feminism that soothes, that speaks for and to the middle class, aspirational feminism that speaks of shoes and shopping and sugar-free snacks and does not talk about poor women, queer women, ugly women, transsexual women, sex workers, single parents, or anybody else who fails to fit the mould. That sort of feminism does not interest me. Let others write it. Let others construct an unchallenging feminism that speaks only to the smallest common denominator.
—  Laurie Penny, Unspeakable Things: Sex, Lies, and Revolution

When you are a teenage girl, all sorts of people suddenly start telling you what you can and can’t do with your body. Your sexual and physical agency belongs to everyone apart from you. People suddenly have all sorts of opinions about how you look, what you wear, where you go and who you touch; men want to use you and sometimes abuse you for sex, and the magazines you read and the culture you consume confirms that the purpose of your body is to please men, whether or not you’re at all interested in fucking them, and you probably shouldn’t be, because you’re a nice girl.

Aristotle, who was the sort of vicious misogynist that people have paid attention to for two thousand years, believed that women were incapable of higher reasoning because we are more animalistic than men, more bound to our bodies—women were bodies first before they were whole beings, and those bodies needed to be kept in line by men with muscle. Two thousand years later, the same logic is at play at the highest levels of government. It is at play whenever lawmakers suggest that women should be forced to go to counseling before they can have an abortion. It is at play whenever the state decides it knows better than women what our sexual autonomy should look like. It is at play when one in five women will be raped in her lifetime, and the public conversation is stuck on how many of those women are liars.

It is no surprise that so many women and girls have what are delicately called ‘control issues’ around their bodies, from cutting and injuring their flesh to starving or stuffing themselves with food, compulsive exercise, or pathological, unhappy obsession over how we look and dress. Adolescence, for a woman, is the slow realisation that you are not considered fully as human as you hoped. You are a body first, and your body is not yours alone: whether or not you are attracted to men, men and boys will believe they have claim on your body, and the state gets to decide what you’re allowed to do with it afterwards.

— 

from “Anticlimax” in Laurie Penny’s Unspeakable Things

this is what happens in so many places & spaces, what do we do now

I am a digital romantic. Because sex online is real sex and love online is real love and everything in between is real, too, as real as your hand down your pants, your heart in your mouth. I say this for all of us who’ve ever felt our breath quicken when a particular userpic pops up on screen. For everyone who marvels that you can use a keyboard to construct a perfect rose that will never have the decency to decay. For the kids sexting each other on sticky smartphones while their parents sleep. For the fan fiction writers sending their horny fairy tales out into the dark like perfumed letters. For the student staying up late to hump a camera for her girlfriend in another timezone. For the Craigslist missed connections and the Chatroulette strangers. For the transsexual teenagers whispering lust and learning in chat rooms while small-town bigots drive drunk through their disappearing fiefdoms. For the World of Warcraft lovers. 

Sexuality online is real sexuality, and it’s about far, far more than porn. It’s the children who meet each other on self-harm forums whispering their most painful everyday secrets until the night when one of them posts in crisis and the others call from across the world in voices so familiar they forget they’ve never heard each other speak before. It’s OKCupid and Fetlife. It’s the camgirls and the cryptic personals and the amateur pornographers. It’s passsive-aggressive status updates, untagging and defriending and broken-hearted blogging. It’s the second-dates who tease each other with hyperlinks and the couples who send each other cat-gifs at work. It’s every neck-down naked picture I’ve ever sent to a boy I wanted to screw. 

It’s the hours positioning yourself on the sheets for the blink of a camera and touching yourself gently when the laptop shuts. It’s the shy intellectuals spinning out message-board chats into something seductive, it’s all of us who understand that how you fuck can be less important than how you talk about fucking. It’s the lonely bedroom blogger flirting with a spambot. It’s the bots who want to be loved and the lovers who want to be robots. It’s the perverts, the dreamers and the shy, reaching out across the ether and running chilly fingers over each other’s forebrains, and it’s complicated. It’s always complicated. But that doesn’t mean it’s not human.

—   from Unspeakable Things by Laurie Penny