Trump claims that he “alone” could rescue America from its misery. Hitler famously conjured the model of “the genius, the great man” who alone held the key to the destiny of Germany. Calling democracy “a joke,” Hitler fiercely disdained what he called “weak majorities.” Trump doesn’t believe in democracy either.
Hitler was building the case for the Führerprinzip—a belief in the iron infallibility of the leader. It was an elaborate, historically wrought version of the “I alone” principle. With it, Hitler eventually won power in Germany and governed as an absolute despot.
Trump wants Americans to trust him. Everyone should just trust him, him alone, trust him to solve problems and implement even implausibly programs like rounding up eleven million undocumented immigrants. When challenged during the primaries for programs or plans on how he would carry out his extreme policy proposals, he habitually fell back on “trust me” or variations such as his unbelievable ability to “get things done.”
“There has to be a trust,” he told reporters who asked for details about his programs.
Robert backed off the moment Rebecca’s lips touched his. “What the hell is your problem?” Robert asked, his voice probably lighter than it should be. He simply couldn’t believe that she kept coming back for more, no matter how many times he said no. The shock made him forget to put the anger in his voice. “Come on, Robert,” she said with a smile. “I’m engaged,” Robert said, holding up his left hand in illustration. “You’ve slept with me when you were engaged last time,” she reminded him. “A ring’s never stopped you.” “The difference is, this time I’m in love,” Robert said. “Stop trying it on with me, my answer won’t change.” “What’s so special about Aaron?” Rebecca asked, face screwed up with disdain. “What hold has he got over you?” “You know… I could tell you what’s so special about him. Why he’s so amazing and why I want to marry him. But there’s no way you deserve to hear it.”
Worth finishing? Or too samey with works already out there?
apparently there was a bi '''discourse''' and it went away? like, i'm sure most of those people then morphed into the aphobes of today, but does anyone remember what they did to make those assholes stop? maybe we can apply it to ace '''discourse''' and also help our spanish speaking siblings put an end to the hell of nb '''discourse'' (i hate that word it's not a discourse it's abuse and mislabeling ughJH), cause no platofrming is great but they're still here, and still violent abt it.
Yea I went through bi discourse, and basically we outnumbered them and made them feel the minority, we ridiculed them instead of validating them, and basically made everything they said laughable and not even worth discourse (like we are trying to do with aphobes now.) Push them to the fringes, don’t dignify them, and call them what they are with disdain so they know they aren’t tolerated. They’ll find themselves with few allies and a lot of shunning, with nobody to listen to them.
60- And your Lord has said, ‘Call on Me and I will respond to you, in other words, worship Me and I will reward you — judging [this to be the meaning] by what follows. Surely those who disdain to worship Me shall enter (sa-yadkhulūna, or [passive] sa-yudkhalūna, ‘they shall be admitted into’) Hell [utterly] humiliated’, abased. * تفسير Tafsir al-Jalalayn
The Strange and Twisted Tale of Not Being a Fan: JMo, Swen, and why does anyone care what I think anyway?
You know every time I say something passive aggressive about JMo–usually something that amounts to that I think she’s unprofessional or that I gave up on her a long time ago–someone comes to my ask box to interrogate me on my feelings about her. I don’t say anything to her on twitter directly. I try to anti tag the posts. But someone is always disturbed that I don’t appreciate her. As if my lack of regard for her is deeply offensive to them.
Usually the conversation starts out with something like “Why do you hate JMo?” Which is always strange to me. Because my feelings aren’t hate to me. They’re disappointment to a degree, because I think she’s a deeply intelligent woman who is in general socially aware, but what I feel mostly is disdain. I think that she is a woman who has a superficial understanding of something she has not attempted to understand any deeper, yet she has decided apparently to treat in a manner I find incredibly condescending.
I honestly believe she thinks that she is trying not to give people false hope. I think what she’s doing is rejecting people many of whom come from minority groups that are routinely rejected every day of their lives by both those close to them and those who don’t know them at all. So in some ways JMo just becomes another in a long line of people who have rejected many of people like me and like others who have supported her over the years. There is a saying that giving someone false hope is the worst thing that you can do, and I tend to agree when it applies to life or death, freedom or confinement, love or loss. But the exploration of imagination in fiction–television and literature–is not one of those realms. No one should confine your interpretation of things to a prescriptive right and wrong way to read something. People who have no expectation at all of Swan Queen happening on the show still take hope from the story. They still see themselves in the show. They still take bravery from the show. They still learn to love themselves in the show. And on some very important levels none of it has to do with who either woman is kissing be it the men in their lives or each other.
So when you say that people are leading us on. That we are being given false hope. That they should just let us down. I just tilt my head and wonder if the speaker understands how media lights the imagination and heals the soul in the first place. It’s about an active engagement with it not a passive one that sits back and only cares about the story that anyone can see. It is about identity and imagination and no one has a right to deny that to anyone under the guise of pity or some warped view of compassion.
But these askers rarely stop at defending JMo. They usually go on to cast Lana either as not fundamentally different in her approach to the Swan Queen question, or ironically once you establish that she is in fact very different in her treatment of the fans that what she does is somehow cynical or harmful. That when the show ends and Swan Queen hasn’t happened we’re all going to turn on her and call her the false prophet. Which just strikes me as a completely bizarre thought that comes from the fact that the asker’s concern is in no way genuine or true. For you see they are right. Lana never promises Swan Queen. She promotes Outlaw Queen when the story calls for it. But what she does do is say that these people matter to her. That their vision of the story matters if it is being told or not. That what they take from the story makes them stronger and what they see is beautiful.
That the people who see a Swan Queen story see something brave, and beautiful and true just as much as any of her other fans who identify with the story in another way. She does not captain our ship. She celebrates our captaining our own ship. In telling our own story. One of these things is dictatorial and limiting and the other of these things is expansive and liberating. And the only way you think that the former is better than the latter is if you believe the world should be smaller and the story should speak only to you. Whereas I think the world should be expansive and perhaps even unlimited and it should speak to me … and to you… and to someone whose point of view I can’t even imagine.
But ultimately I think Lana is irrelevant to the JMo question. The women are not in competition. And bringing her into conversation is a set up of one woman against another when neither need be measured against the other. Lana is not JMo. No one should expect them to behave in the same way. But equally for one to be right the other need not be wrong. Women should not be judged against each other but by their own merits. And the conversation is about JMo and not about Lana. The question of course being… what do I … insignificant person behind a computer screen feel about Jennifer Morrison.
I think what I have ultimately for JMo is … pity… because I can’t imagine having such a restricted view of the text and the power of fiction. And that’s when my pity turns into something else because I don’t think JMo is a woman with a small imagination. I think she is a very intelligent woman who understands the role and history of literature incredibly well. And so I am left with the idea that it is not a lack of fundamental understanding that has led her to reject so many people, but rather a decision made for professional reasons. That she has made some calculation–I don’t know what–that it is better for her to beat the drum of this romance and to ignore these people coloring outside of the box. And either she has decided that whatever pain that causes is unavoidable and thus acceptable or that she has chosen to not see the pain at all.
I don’t know. Frankly I don’t care.
Because this is the point where I stop psychoanalyzing an millionaire actress with dozens of people around her looking out for her best interests and I start thinking about the people she has rejected who do not have consultants and handlers and legions of people telling her that they love her. I have to think about the person who gets up in the morning and sees a little 1 over the envelope in their tumblr and they get excited at (or they dread because they’ve had this happen so many times) the prospect of opening up this message to discover that someone is telling them that they are sick, or wrong, or pathetic, or delusional, or that they should just go away because they are in the way. And some part of their life that is already hard becomes harder. And the person at the other side of that ask? The one that said that fan didn’t matter? They’re excited because someone they looked up validated them and their interpretation of the story and not that angry bully they sent a message to.
And that’s the sad thing to me. Because there is evil in this situation. Real honest to god evil. Not something that comes with a wavy dagger or a ridiculous heart prop. And her choice has been to not see the evil, and to not see the pain because … for whatever reason and it really doesn’t matter to me what they are… it’s easier for her.
And so I have contempt and disdain for the woman.
I am not a fan. I do not think she has behaved in a particularly admirable fashion.
Yet the cult of celebrity worship has said that even my quiet contempt… restricted to a tiny unimportant corner of the internet that she will never see… is too much. Is wrong. That she needs protecting from the likes of me even as nothing I say or think will impact her in the slightest. I can’t even be permitted to think that she has chosen to do something not only not deserving in my admiration, but in my contempt. I am not permitted to say “I am not a fan” without challenge. Without a knight defender come to protect the beleaguered princess from the person in the street who says isn’t it a shame that she isn’t very charming.
What would you wish upon
a silent stranger passing by
What would you wish upon
an acquaintance across
the table, one leg over the other,
puffing a cigarette
much to your disdain?
What would you wish upon
the homeless woman
with a napping child,
whose spirits are as tattered
as her clothes?
What would you wish upon
the driver drowning
in road-rage and traffic frustration
who yells out of his window
cussing the cyclist, the tree?
What would you wish upon
the fledgling with the red Beats
pants sagging down to ground
afro obscuring sensibility?
What would you wish upon
a reflection in the window
staring back at you
nonplussed, without recognition,
eyes like yours, nose like yours,
grimness set in stone in
features chiseled from misanthropy?
What would you wish upon
Mermaid au Could hiccups tail be periment and has to live in the ocean and can he talk in clicks as well and stoick didnt know that it was periment and has to say goodbye forever than hiccup meets merman jack and all the cheesy stuff to come
I tried, but it’s probably not as fluffy as you wanted it to be aha…. At the end I put some reference photos again.
Warnings: nakey mermaids but other than that nothing really?
I apologize for any mistakes made.
Hiccup looked at the water with disdain. What gave it the right to control his life? His father noticed his face and set a large hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Son,” he said softly. Hiccup sighed and looked up to him, frowning at the tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think sixteen years would pass by so quickly.”
“I know,” he agreed quietly. Just off in the water his mother waiting for him. He could see her head bouncing with the waves. He hugged his arms around his stomach. “So this is really going to happen? I can’t come back?”
“You know you can’t. You’ll die if you ever tried coming back to land.” Stoick’s voice caught in his throat and he pulled his son closer. “I know I haven’t been the best father, but I love you, Hiccup, more than you could ever know.”
Hiccup chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep his eyes from watering. “I love you too.”
“Your mother loves you too, she’ll take care of you.” Stoick wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. “Just make sure to visit once in awhile during high tide. Don’t expect to get away from me soon.”
Hiccup snorted and nodded. They watched as the sun disappeared and the moon began to shine. Hiccup’s body burned and he began to claw at his clothes. Stoick, with new tears in his eyes, silently helped his son undress. He looked pained as Hiccup moaned and screamed. They knew this would happen, the pain of transforming, but it didn’t hurt any less to see his son suffer.
Finally, with Hiccup undressed, Stoick pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Go to her. I love you.”
The brunette managed to push through his screams and nodded. He choked out an ‘I love you’ back before running towards the water.
He felt instant relief as water crashed over him. He dove deeper and deeper until he was fully submerged. For a moment he panicked because his lungs began to ache for air. He gasped and water filled him, but it didn’t burn. Experimentally, he breathed a few times and found it as easy as it was on land.
He looked for his legs but had a tail instead. It was slim and all different shades of green. There were thin, almost translucent fins at his hips and at the end was a fin that fanned out and fluttered like an undersea, iridescent flower. He touched it with his newly webbed fingers, watching his scales shine in the moonlight filtering through the water.
He heard a muffled voice from above. Breaking through the surface, he waved to his father. Stoick called out to him, but he couldn’t understand him. “I don’t understand!” Hiccup shouted back, or more like chattered, but Stoick just shook his head, calling out once more. Hiccup felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t understand his father anymore. He couldn’t understand humans at all.
A hand came onto his shoulder and he started, clumsily swimming away. A woman’s laugh rang in the air. “Oh, you look wonderful.”
She had dark brown hair that was braided with seaweed and shells. A pearl crown was perched on her head, showing her status. Her thin face made her eyes look even bigger. She looked just like the picture Stoick kept by his bed. Hiccup recognized her immediately. “Mom,” he said.
“Yes, my sweet boy, you’re home now.” Valka swam to him gracefully and hugged him close. Hiccup tried to wiggle away when he felt she wasn’t wearing anything. She laughed at his discomfort. “You’ll have to get used to things around here. We don’t live as humans do.”
He flushed. “You guys don’t wear anything?”
She laughed again. “Not unless there’s a special event, no.” He frowned and she looked off towards the beach. “Your father,” she whispered. Hiccup could see the longing in her eyes. “Oh…” It looked as if she was about to reach out for him, but stopped herself, turning back to her son. “We should get going. Everyone is excited to meet you.”
He glanced to Stoick, swallowing. “Yeah, sure.”
“Come along, it’s a long swim to our home.” Val held out her hand and Hiccup took it reluctantly. It was going to take some time before he would consider it his home.
I have never put myself into the dilemma Stana Katic - Nathan Fillion relationship in and outside the Castle set. And I have no intention to do it now, not even after having read some articles I hope it write down something not true. What I am going to do is just state the evidence.
Well, HERE you can find all the tweets of cast and crew members, people who had just worked with Stana once or twice, people who just loved the show, some journalists too.
And then there is him. After 8 years of working together with a person something like 14 hrs/day for most part of the year, all you can write down, after an entire day is
I think the post speaks by itself. The bored great grandchild of a boring third class movie could’ve done better in putting some emphasis in the eulogy of a deceased not-even-known great aunt.
“She will be missed” maybe by many other people out there, maybe by the other crew and staff members, maybe by people who appreciates her. But I think not by you. You should’ve remained silent, because your silence was eloquent enough, and it would do make you a better impression. Btw thank you for th post.
Imagine Being A Sassy New Assassin and Messing With Hux
“Lieutenant Y/L/N, I have- what…why are you out of uniform code?” Hux looked at your untucked shirt with disdain.
“What are you talking about?” you asked with false innocence. “I’m wearing the uniform.”
“We’ve been over this with you, bounty hunter,” he began to snap, but you quickly corrected him, “EX-bounty hunter, Ginger Snap. I’m firmly with the First Order, now.”
“I don’t care what you are,” he sneered, “You won’t talk back to me like that and you will follow the same code as the rest of the army.”
“How about you make me?” Hux knew you were just egging him on, but he couldn’t stand for disobedience and refused to give you any sense of victory.
“Fine,” he grumbled, beginning to fix your shirt. You smirked when his fingers briefly touched your skin, clearly not having meant to.
“Ooh, you’re a handsy guy, Ginger Snap.”
“I am most certainly not,” he removed his hands from you in an instant, “Go fix it yourself.”
“Hmm… I’m gonna have to think about it,” you said, still smirking as Hux turned red with indignation. You made a satisfied noise and went to go see what Phasma was doing. Sure, the new structure in your life was a bit boring, and the general was a bit uptight, but damn, he was fun to mess with.
A lot of the hate in my inbox accuses me of being homophobic. It’s very easy to look at what I said and make that surface-level conclusion, rather than analyzing the totality of what I said.
My disdain for white gay male culture has nothing to do with their sexuality. I’m a same-gender loving person myself. It has to do with the fact that the queer movement centers around them at the exclusion of others, and the majority of them are happy to let this continue. They can call women bitches, cunts, dykes, and no one bats an eye. They can appropriate black culture, especially black female culture, and this is considered acceptable. There is this sense that black women exist to be their abstract icons rather than real human beings with human concerns. Next time you go to Pride, take note of how white cis gay men dominate it. This is exactly what I’m talking about.
I don’t use homophobic language and don’t like the word ‘faggot’ at all, but the fact that so many white cis people in the gay community find what Azealia said *so* much more scandalous than the racism, misogyny, and transphobia that I see from white cis gay men is ridiculous. They scoff at Azealia but are fucking silent, or even help to perpetuate, all of the things I hate so much about white cis gay culture.
So yeah, go ahead and conclude that I’m a homophobe because of what I said. It’s much easier than looking at the complexities of the issues I’m talking about.
As I was helping my brother with his FAFSA and summer college application we came to a point where we couldn’t go any further without my mom.
So we start talking about Lemonade. His dumbass says he didn’t now it was a movie. So i start showing him Don’t Hurt Yourself. Of course at that very moment my mom comes in the room. Every time I go to push play she starts talking. I begin to realize that she is doing it on purpose and close out of Tidal. At which point she states, “What are you trying to convince him to date a black girl?”
Just so casually but with so much disdain.
“What? Are you trying to convince him to date a black girl…?”
It was in that one statement that I realized why mother is unable to love me the way she loves him.
I am a black woman. Even with passing privilege I have grown up as a black woman and have always identified as such. I am the thing that she loathes deep down. Of course she’ll never admit it. But it’s clear from the tone of her voice. From the way she talks about my black girlfriend “brainwashing” me to be “all black power” even though I was an African American Studies major in college. To the way that she refuses to watch Lemonade with me. She’s not okay with my blackness.
She glorifies my brother and his “mixedness.” Because up until recently he has been that quintessential mixed fuckboy. He had “no race” as she says.
But something happened. Like me, Jesse went to college and escaped the grasps of her racism masked as color blindness. He explored himself and his culture. He became true to himself.
When she learns that my brother is black, it’s going to break her heart. And honestly, I can’t wait.
[UPDATE: This statement was originally written by our PR team. It has been updated by GSX head of development Brianna Wu.]
When Giant Spacekat was founded 4 years ago, speaking out on women in tech was the last thing on my mind. But, as I started working in games - I saw things here that I felt compelled to speak out against. In the last 5 months, this has led to unprecedented harassment by Gamergate.
Sadly, specific violent threats from Gamergate have threatened all we’ve accomplished as a studio. What started as contempt towards the inclusive Giant Spacekat ideals, has over time become a near constant barrage of unwarranted hatred, harassment, and threats.
Chances are, if you’re reading this blog, you know what a nightmare the last five months have been for me and my team.
GSX has continually attempted to get support from law enforcement with prosecuting the individuals behind explicit and detailed death threats. I’ve had 46 sent to me in the last 5 months. They often target me by name. The most frightening ones say who, what, where, why and when I will be murdered.
Despite the credibility of those threats, and despite attempts by one of these criminals to follow through on his violent threats, very little has been accomplished by law enforcement towards the goal of apprehending these criminals.
This brings us to PAX East.
I’ve have very difficult conversations with my husband about standing up to Gamergate, despite the death threats. We don’t have children, and we feel strongly enough about this issue to accept this risk. Our lives are our own, this is our choice.
I cannot and will not make that choice for the people I work with.
After talking to them, I made the decision to prioritize the safety of Giant Spacekat’s employees. Specifically, we have chosen to withdraw our presence from the Pax East 2015 Expo Hall, due to a concern that in a crowd of such a volume expected at Pax, the safety of our team can not be guaranteed.
Working a PAX show floor means interacting with thousands of strangers a day for three days. Given that two of our most serious threats have come right here in Massachusetts, that threat is something I must take seriously as a leader. In addition to threats of violence, my team is frightened of being harassed by Gamergate supporters.
We had a conversation as a team, and they voted. They do not feel comfortable with this. As their leader, I heard that and I’m going to respect it.
One of the things I struggle with every year in attending PAX East is writing a check to Penny Arcade. Mike Krahulik said himself that he is a bully, and I agree with that statement. The reason GSX has continued to attend PAX has specifically been because the Enforcers and PAX staff are awesome.
That said, I have personally been frustrated in trying to communicate with PAX about our security concerns. I called them on three occasions trying to talk to them about security concerns, and did not have my calls returned. I was able to attend both Arisia and Boskone, events taking place at the hotel next to PAX, with the help of their security teams. I’d hoped to come to a similar arrangement with PAX East.
PAX is a big event, and I’m certain it was not a conscious decision on their part to ignore us. After posting our decision to withdraw, PAX East did get in touch with me, and attending in 2016 will be a different story. I think the PAX Enforcers are awesome, and I think it’s a safe event in general for people.
But it doesn’t feel safe to us.
I’d love to show you guys Revolution 60 PC at PAX East. But, I’m not going to make my team feel unsafe just to get a few more eyeballs on my game. My team comes first, period.
I’ll still be taking press meetings at Pax East 2015 as best as I can. Those meetings can be set up or requested through our press email address: email@example.com
I made a professional commitment to participate in PAX East panels and I will follow through on those commitments.
I think it speaks very poorly to the state of videogames when threats and harassment preclude a team of women from showing their work at one of the industry’s most important events.
60- And your Lord has said, ‘Call on Me and I will respond to you, in other words, worship Me and I will reward you — judging [this to be the meaning] by what follows. Surely those who disdain to worship Me shall enter (sa-yadkhulūna, or [passive] sa-yudkhalūna, ‘they shall be admitted into’) Hell [utterly] humiliated’, abased.* تفسير Tafsir al-Jalalayn