@virgilpattonromanlogan / virgilpattonromanlogan.tumblr.com
“I am six-and-seventy years old. I have known Viserys longer than any who sit at this table and I will not believe that he said this on his deathbed, alone, with only the boy's mother as a witness. This is seizure! It is theft! It is treason!"
★ 【ADSouto】 「 Outcast Princess 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter
Have fun in the war dumbass I’ll be at home fucking military wives
Damn. Good way to get your fucking windows kicked in
shut the fuck up and raise my son bootlicker
All fun and games until someone with 3 confirmed kills shows up at your doorstep with a baseball bat
im not at my house tho, im at yours with your wife
But he’s got shooters all over the world 🌎 even when he’s away
just shot a load in his wife
You ungrateful asshole. My bf might be fighting for your freedom and you’re here mocking him for keeping your pathetic ass safe from the threats of the world. If a war comes to our country, we’re not saving you, you dumbass ungrateful fuck up of a human being.
Your bf is fighting for oil and killing civilians and probably cheating on you he’s a scumbag, which is why I just fucked his mom to make a better son
The fool taunts the hungry dogs but the dogs have their day and the fool becomes a feast
your girl boutta be the feast soon as you get deployed boot boy
World Heritage Post
Who ever was the first person to post this is the biggest piece of shit in the world. You’re an amoral ASSHOLE!!!!!
Hotmeat89 you are a disgrace you don’t deserve to be called an American! You don’t even have the right to call yourself a MAN!
I don’t call myself a man but your wife still calls me to fuck
if i tell yall what i did on the tram today yall would call it a fake tumblr story i think
oh?
so it helps to know that my mindset at the time was influenced by having been transphobically sealioned at a temping agency earlier, as well as spontaneously turning up to a different temping agency without an appointment & actually landing with them after THOSE guys turned out to be cool.
I was on the tram (crowded tram) (just after 11 AM) on my way home full of adrenaline still, and saw my dad eating a banana on the platform. I could get out of the tram to say hi, but then i'd miss the tram, or worse, hold it up. What i COULD do, however, is sprint out of the tram as soon as the door opens, take a bite from the banana my dad is holding, and SPRINT back into the tram before the doors close. So That Is What I Did.
unfortunately now roughly half of the passengers of the tram were looking at me like I was suddenly some sort of feral spirit of hunger or perhaps a strange insect of some sort.* Fortunately, the truth was also the ONE sequence of words that could make what they had just witnessed okay. I went "das ist mein papa!!!" which is german for "thats my dad!!!!!"
My dad seemed genuinely delighted by this btw. the look on his face was fucking PRICELESS
i would like to beat the little german boy accusations based on my behavior before they arise. i am in fact a tall german trans girl.
however in everything except body i AM calvin from calvin & hobbes
Guys, why do you call Terry Pratchett either a type of antelope or an astroid?
It was called the lucky clacks tower, Tower 181. It was close enough to the town of Bonk for a man to be able to go and get a hot bath and a good bed on his days off, but since this was Überwald there wasn’t too much local traffic and - this was important - it was way, way up in the mountains and management didn’t like to go that far. In the good old days of last year, when the Hour of the Dead took place every night, it was a happy tower because both the up-line and the down-line got the Hour at the same time, so there was an extra pair of hands for maintenance. Now Tower 181 did maintenance on the fly or not at all, just like all the others, but it was still, proverbially, a good tower to man.
Mostly man, anyway. Back down on the plains it was a standing joke that 181 was staffed by vampires and werewolves. In fact, like a lot of towers, it was often manned by kids.
Everyone knew it happened. Actually, the new management probably didn’t, but wouldn’t have done anything about it if they’d found out, apart from carefully forgetting that they’d known. Kids didn’t need to be paid.
The - mostly - young men on the towers worked hard in all weathers for just enough money. They were loners, hard dreamers, fugitives from the law that the law had forgotten, or just from everybody else. They had a special kind of directed madness; they said the rattle of the clacks got into your head and your thoughts beat time with it so that sooner or later you could tell what messages were going through by listening to the rattle of the shutters. In their towers they drank hot tea out of strange tin mugs, much wider at the bottom so that they didn’t fall over when gales banged into the tower. On leave, they drank alcohol out of anything. And they talked a gibberish of their own, of donkey and nondonkey, system overhead and packet space, of drumming it and hotfooting, of a 181 (which was good) or flock (which was bad) or totally flocked (really not good at all) and plug-code and hog-code and jacquard …
And they liked kids, who reminded them of the ones they’d left behind or would never have, and kids loved the towers. They’d come and hang around and do odd jobs and maybe pick up the craft of semaphore just by watching. They tended to be bright, they mastered the keyboard and levers as if by magic, they usually had good eyesight and what they were doing, most of them, was running away from home without actually leaving.
Because, up on the towers, you might believe you could see to the rim of the world. You could certainly see several other towers, on a good clear day. You pretended that you too could read messages by listening to the rattle of the shutters, while under your fingers flowed the names of faraway places you’d never see but, on the tower, were somehow connected to …
She was known as Princess to the men on Tower 181, although she was really Alice. She was thirteen, could run a line for hours on end without needing help, and later on would have an interesting career which … but anyway, she remembered this one conversation, on this day, because it was strange. Not all the signals were messages. Some were instructions to towers.
Some, as you operated your levers to follow the distant signal, made things happen in your own tower. Princess knew all about this. A lot of what travelled on the Grand Trunk was called the Overhead. It was instructions to towers, reports, messages about messages, even chatter between operators, although this was strictly forbidden these days. It was all in code. It was very rare you got Plain in the Overhead. But now …
‘There it goes again,’ she said. ‘It must be wrong. It’s got no origin code and no address. It’s Overhead, but it’s in Plain.’
On the other side of the tower, sitting in a seat facing the opposite direction because he was operating the up-line, was Roger, who was seventeen and already working for his tower-master certificate.
His hand didn’t stop moving as he said: ‘What did it say?’
‘There was GNU, and I know that’s a code, and then just a name. It was John Dearheart. Was it a—’
‘You sent it on?’ said Grandad. Grandad had been hunched in the corner, repairing a shutter box in this cramped shed halfway up the tower. Grandad was the tower-master and had been everywhere and knew everything. Everyone called him Grandad. He was twenty-six. He was always doing something in the tower when she was working the line, even though there was always a boy in the other chair. She didn’t work out why until later.
‘Yes, because it was a G code,’ said Princess. ‘Then you did right. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Yes, but I’ve sent that name before. Several times. Upline and downline. Just a name, no message or anything!’
She had a sense that something was wrong, but she went on: ‘I know a U at the end means it has to be turned round at the end of the line, and an N means Not Logged.’ This was showing off, but she’d spent hours reading the cypher book. ‘So it’s just a name, going up and down all the time! Where’s the sense in that?’
Something was really wrong. Roger was still working his line, but he was staring ahead with a thunderous expression.
Then Grandad said: ‘Very clever, Princess. You’re dead right.’ ‘Hah!’ said Roger.
‘I’m sorry if I did something wrong,’ said the girl meekly. ‘I just thought it was strange. Who’s John Dearheart?’
‘He … fell off a tower,’ said Grandad.
‘Hah!’ said Roger, working his shutters as if he suddenly hated them.
‘He’s dead?’ said Princess.
‘Well, some people say—’ Roger began.
‘Roger!’ snapped Grandad. It sounded like a warning.
‘I know about Sending Home,’ said Princess. ‘And I know the souls of dead linesmen stay on the Trunk.’
‘Who told you that?’ said Grandad.
Princess was bright enough to know that someone would get into trouble if she was too specific.
‘Oh, I just heard it,’ she said airily. ‘Somewhere.’
‘Someone was trying to scare you,’ said Grandad, looking at Roger’s reddening ears.
It hadn’t sounded scary to Princess. If you had to be dead, it seemed a lot better to spend your time flying between the towers than lying underground. But she was bright enough, too, to know when to drop a subject.
It was Grandad who spoke next, after a long pause broken only by the squeaking of the new shutter bars. When he did speak, it was as if something was on his mind. ‘We keep that name moving in the Overhead,’ he said, and it seemed to Princess that the wind in the shutter arrays above her blew more forlornly, and the everlasting clicking of the shutters grew more urgent. ‘He’d never have wanted to go home. He was a real linesman. His name is in the code, in the wind in the rigging and the shutters. Haven’t you ever heard the saying “A man’s not dead while his name is still spoken”?’
- From Going Postal by Terry Pratchett
tl;dr: “gnu” is a term of respect from Sir Pratchett’s books that means “keep saying their name, keep saying their name.”
The really great thing is, it wasn’t planned.
After Terry Pratchett died, “GNU Terry Pratchett” started flying all over the internet. Tweets, Tumblrs, blogposts. People emailed and DMed each other with the news and the message. Coders for websites and blogs put the message into their code so that “GNU Terry Pratchett” could never be removed from the internet. Sir Terry’s daughter said that she was astonished–that no one had expected this.
Sir Terry’s fans found a way of using his own writing to memorialize him. To say, We love you. We remember you. And we won’t let you be forgotten.
That message is still true.
the future is now
are people that lazy to need this
While I’m sure there are people too lazy to spin a fork, keep in mind people like this person who may be suffering from arthritis or a neurological disease or nerve damage or a thousand other conditions that might impair their ability to do things as simple as spin a fork to eat spaghetti.
These are used with people who can’t grip well:
This is for Parkinsons’s:
For people who can’t even bend their joints:
Here’s a product that guides your hand from your plate to your mouth
This one holds a sandwich
Like I get it. I used to see things like the fork and think “that’s fuckin’ lazy” or that product that holds a gallon and you just tip it and pour. But then I started working around the disabled and impaired and found out that these products aren’t meant for lazy people, they’re meant for people who need help.
So maybe next time you see something, instead of thinking “Wow, are people that lazy?” just be grateful that you’re able to do the things you do every day and take for granted, like being able to feed yourself and wipe your own ass because you have enough coordination and bendy joints to do it.
This isn’t specualtion either; the majority of products from commericals that we think are funny or silly are autally MEANT for hte disabled.But they are marketed towards the abled because the disabled aren’t considered a viable enough demographic on their own. the Snuggie for example? Created for wheelchair users.
This is actually really nifty.
oh my god of course the snuggie was for wheelchair users
The fact that anyone buys these products besides disabled people drastically lowers the price of them. These would normally cost hundreds if not thousands if dollars. Because if spent time and money creating it, the company wants to get more than that back. And they can’t do that if they sell and market these primarily to disabled people for $20-$40 a piece or whatever. They’d lose money on production. If they can sell hundreds of them to everyone, they can lower the price drastically and therefore disabled people don’t die while trying to scrape up the money to buy these things and be a bit more independent.
I never considered that last part and that’s actually genius
Like yeah, a handful of people ARE that lazy.
But those are the people who use these products even though they don’t need them and thus allow the price to be lower for those who DO.
So honestly in this case good bless the lazy and those prone to gimmicks because they are invaluable to the elderly and disabled in this sense.
@thebibliosphere Look! People learning about disability and why to be kind!
The normalization of disability aids needs to be a thing precisely so they can cost less.
Better living through technology bitches
@indelibleevidence you're absolutely right
We're supporting the writers strike
Still reeling from the realization that bullet journaling was essentially created to be a disability aid and got legit fuckin gentrified
Like I'm at work and don't have the time to properly organize my thoughts atm but like.
-bullet journalling was invented by a man with a learning disability (99% sure it was ADHD but his website now just says learning disability so I can't be 100%) as a system for organizing his life/way to work WITH his learning disability
-the general concept is bullet point the important things you need to do and use a simple system of symbols to mark whether it's done, rescheduled, cancelled, etc. with very little fanfare, keeping it all in one notebook so you know where to easily find the information at a glance
-people pick it up and it starts getting popular
-bullet journaling becomes an aesthetic movement largely populated by white neurotypicals
-bullet journaling has turned into creating an extremely pretty notebook that has some function, but largely depends on complicated decoration and aesthetic function that takes more time to set up than is tenable for the people it was created for
-new entries to bullet journaling feel pressure to shop at particular stores, use particular brands, purchase lots of stationery purely for its aesthetic value, and prioritize the artistry of the pages rather than the information being stored on them
-people who would massively benefit from the original system can only really find information on it from members of the aesthetic movement. There is now a barrier to entry for ppl with ADHD and other similar conditions, as bullet journaling now requires a focus and motivation to start that these same people often lack or struggle to maintain consistently
-bullet journaling is no longer a disability aid and has become an aesthetic movement largely for middle class white neurotypicals, pushing out the people who the system was created for to begin with
This is the original guide from the person who made bullet journalling. Super simple. Not at all high maintenance.
It was eye-opening to rewatch this after getting used to bullet journal meaning "work of highly decorative art you might journal in if it doesn't detract from the decoration" everywhere online.
It's ADD. Ryder Carroll, who developed the Bullet Journal method to suit his brain, has ADD. (I grabbed the book from my shelf, it's mentioned in the introduction.)
And yeah, it's frustrating. I use my bullet journal close to how it's described there (different bullets/symbols, and a little bit of colour marking to make things more easily findable), and whenever I went looking for ideas to try out to organise stuff, if I found anything, it was buried under mountains of fancy layouts.
I always point people to the introductory video when I recommend it.
Shel Silverstein wrote and illustrated poetry for children,
drew cartoons for Playboy,
and made the most terrifying album cover of all time.
Don't put artists in a box.
Can’t wait to watch Belos get his face bashed in by a Latina single mother of six
It's complete x'D
Wait I went back and got a clean shot this time and there are so many things in this frame.
She’s still got a box of her late husband’s things in her bedroom after all these years.
She’s thrown out a broken flat iron, so yeah, she used to straighten her hair (and maybe Luz did too).
She has photos of herself with both her daughters on the wall.
She has parenting a queer child books
Dana and the entire Owl House cast:
Literally ALL of us:
I genuinely think the bird tube can take him
Being a mom and an anarchist and trying to figure out the whole "parenting" song and dance from that perspective makes me think 8-year-olds have about got it figured out. I hate school. I hate tests. I hate bedtime.
No like here’s the thing: children are an oppressed class. I mean that 100% sincerely. Children m are an oppressed class. They quite literally do not have the right to be free human beings.
Reposting from my twitter here, but: you wouldn't prevent an adult from speaking to their friend or eating when they were hungry. In your personal life that's abusive behavior, in the work sphere a suppression of workers' rights. Other places these rights are violated include: prison.
In Education and Peace, Maria Montessori describes the culture of war and identifies it as originating, on a personal level, in the struggle between the adult and the child that begins as soon as the child is born. This is the very first conflict. The adult subjects the child to their own wants and needs and completely disregards the needs, development and personhood of the child. This struggle continues throughout childhood, between both parents and children and other adults and children:
“Both the adult and the child are unaware of their own characteristic natures. They fight one another in a secret struggle that has gone on for countless generations and is becoming more violent today in our complicated and nerve-racking culture. The adult defeats the child; and once the child reaches adulthood the characteristic signs of the peace that is only an aftermath of war—destruction on one hand and painful adjustment on the other—remain with him for the rest of his life.”
This conflict positions children and adults relative to each other as two distinct classes, one with power and one without. Of course, there are other conflicts at play here—race is a huge one, gender another. And that’s not to say children can’t have power over parents, etc. But one of the most fundamental class conflicts is between adults and children.
Children exist in a state of war from day one. Their environment is completely unsuitable to them; they’re treated as if that’s their fault. They’ve literally been alive for less than a decade. Any action they take is done as a result of class conflict.
I vibe so hard w/ this
I work in childcare and multiple parents have been MYSTIFIED that I’m able to handle their “difficult” children (this includes both neurodivergent children and children who are just rude/mean/violent) and it’s impossible to get them to understand that 90% of the average kid’s behaviour “problems” are just frustration at having a lack of autonomy in their own lives. Some kids do have complicated problems, yes, but so many parents are confused by perfectly understandable reactions! Of course your child is acting out; they have no self-determination or right to their own resources and it’s the only avenue they have left to assert themselves! Of course your child just yelled at you and stormed off -- you were just bullying them! I heard you doing it! They were responding extremely reasonably to being bullied!
I swear half the people in this world -- including those who live with these kids 24-7 -- somehow manage to forget or conveniently ignore that kids are, in fact, people, and will act like people in response to situations.
there is no reason a child should not be able to eat when theyre hungry and not eat things they dislike. if they dont like vegetables then teach them how to make it a way they do like. if you wouldnt yell at and hit your grandparents for not finishing their plate why would you do that to a child. they learn from you, not from what goes through your head while you punish them.
I gotta say the notes on this post have been really heartening b/c "Children are people and not property" has historically been one of my more controversial opinions
For the record, people absolutely do treat elders that way. It reinforces your point, though, because bullying Grandma to eat her broccoli is called what it actually is: elder abuse.
That said, one of the greatest mindfucks in my entire life that I needed to utilize my cultural ownership of my daughter, the idea that I own her and she is my property and therefore I am the final sole arbiter of all things with her, to defend and protect her right to self-determination vis-a-vis her transition as a teenager. Literally at one point I had to use it to bar my relatives from insisting on deadnaming her, or even speaking to her until they could respect her chosen name and pronouns. (I can't make them respect her identity, but I could tell them "you can't talk to her unless you address her as she asks to be addressed, and you agree not to say anything negative to her or in her earshot about her transition, her gender, any of it."
It was the only thing they respected. They didn't respect her, they only respected it when I said it, and when I threatened to use that power to withhold her from them, because I owned her in their minds.
The best part is they even mentioned his actual Native American heritage: He’s a Lakota.
“A Lakota; not as tall as the Cheyenne, not as fine featured as the Crow.” -The Colonel, Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron.
This movie does not get enough credit or recognition..
little creek was voiced by a native american VA, and the directors / producers etc etc did a lot of research on the Lakota people and had background characters speak the native language in a few scenes and lets not forget that little creek is a protagonist and the white colonial americans are the bad ones
