john gets home from school and jade and rose and dave are all IMMEDIATELY messaging him and hes like “what do you guys normally do when im gone??” and theyre all like “wait for you to get back”
I wonder from where so many Americans get the idea that voting is supposed to be some expression of your deepest, most beloved values and virtues rather than a pragmatic, political move meant to shift your country as much closer to your ideal as possible. This strikes me as another example of extreme individualism. Voting isn’t about *you*. It’s about your city, state, and/or country. It doesn’t have to feel transcendently good deep down in your bones. It just has to *do* as much good as you can do, in this particular moment in time.
FUCK. I’ve done this exercise before, but it’s been factors like “if you’re male”, “if you’re able-bodied”, etc. Putting it in these terms is somehow more powerful because it shows the consequences of those kinds of privileges. And then when he says, “None of these statements have anything to do with anything any of you have done” … ugh, I started crying. It’s like the “It’s not your fault” scene; as kids we internalize all this shit as somehow our fault. And the looks on the faces on the guys in back. Fuck.
Think about what he says. Lots. It isn’t about what you do. Think about it right now. BEFORE you read more, cause what he says is more important.
It was a bit hard for me to grasp at first because I needed someone to transcribe it for me – so even as a white relatively-well-off person I would not have even placed in the race because the instructions were all verbal and I can’t understand speech.
and i’d be left behind despite my advantages because my two steps are slow and small and taken with a cane. but those of us who are disabled know this lesson already, of course.
what was a revelation to me was the faces of the handful of white men at the very front, the ones who’d taken two steps every time. they were proud at first, and only started getting worried at the end, i think. and when they turned to look back, i could see that very human urge to go back and help. it reminded me that a lot of the time, privileged guilt is like survivor’s guilt – it’s not that you did anything wrong, it’s nothing you earned, it’s a sign you care about your fellow humans.
you can’t change your advantages of birth and upbringing, nor should you want to. the takeaway is that when you reach the finish line and get your hundred bucks – when you reach adulthood and have financial security and mobility and so forth – you look for kids getting left at the starting line and see what you can do to help.
ok this keeps coming on my dash and every time the notes are filled with people being like WHAT IS THIS so i am HERE TO ENLIGHTEN YOU, FRIENDS
this is from the musical Firebringer which is free to watch on Youtube. it’s by Team StarKid of A Very Potter Musical fame (think you recognize the girl singing? that’s Lauren Lopez, also known as the funniest Draco Malfoy the world has ever seen)
anyway, Firebringer is a female-driven, hilarious musical about bisexual cavewomen and you are going to want to watch it. trust me.
As I lay in bed last night so many ideas about where this story could go were coming to me (I love it when you can ‘hear’ the characters voice in your head) I think this may definitely become my next big side line / time sink. Still want to make some non comic art also though.
Reblogging as I see the post with a missing page is doing the rounds and I want to bump this to the top of my tumblr for anyone wanting to see the final page.
Listen, I get it, life is hard and you’re dealing with some shit, but could you not tag my posts as “neurotypicals be like” when I talk about trying to remain positive in a world gone mad with apathy and suffering.
When I say I believe in taking light into dark places, I’m not talking soft pastel aesthetics and salt rock lamps. I’m talking burning this shit to the ground, I’m talking about rising up swinging against those who would put you down.
My hope does not negate my rage or despair. And it sure as shit does not negate my mental and physical illnesses either.
I am hopeful, despite and perhaps even possibly out of spite, because I refuse to surrender my belief that we can do better. That we will do better. When you give that up, they’ve already won. And I’ll die kicking and screaming all the way before I let that happen. Neurodivergency and all.
And if you’re the edgelord off there in the corner talking about how hope is dead and the human species doesn’t deserve to survive? What the fuck are you doing to try and help fix that? This shit is your responsibility too. Fucking rise to it.
Also fuck the idea that softness is a form of weakness, cause I totally did not mean to shit on pastel aesthetics and salt rock lamp people. Fucking do whatever makes you happy and gives you the strength to get through what you’re going through.
I’ll take any light in the darkness over apathy being mistaken for realism.
thinkpiece: The Millenials have cultivated a nihilistic, absurdist brand of satirical humor as a response to a cultural environment where
the traditional social order has collapsed into chaos because of rapid technological advancement, economic downturn, and endless war (much like the dadaists after WWI)
sincere admissions of despair are seen as somewhere between embarrassing and obnoxious and the only acceptable way to express negative emotion is by disguising it in witty, share-able quips
violence, sex, and profanity have become commonplace in the media and the only remaining frontier of shock value is absolute nonsense like “while you were having premarital sex i was dehydrating tangerines.While You Wasted Your Days At The Gym In Pursuit Of Vanity I Was In Hospital With Scurvy”
flyers i’m counting on you to beat the blackhawk’s asses into the ground
Midorima tends to
associate Takao with laughter, because Takao is someone who always laughs.
Laughter is one of those very human things that Midorima didn’t know
much about until they’d escaped Teiko.
There wasn’t a lot of
laughter in Teiko.
After a few months
living on the JSDF base, Midorima corrects his initial understanding—laughter
isn’t inherently human. After all, the scientists in Teiko never laughed
either. It’s not something everyone does. In fact, he thinks the world could be
separated into two different types of people: those who laugh and those who
don’t.
(Not laughter in
general, that is. Most everyone laughs, at some point. But, Midorima thinks,
laughter can be a state of being. Either you’re the kind of person who laughs a
lot or you’re not. Midorima is not. In all fairness, he is fairly certain he
wouldn’t be, even if he hadn’t been raised in a lab.)
*
But it isn’t just
laughter—Takao is almost always making noise. Even when they’re studying
together—an activity that pretty much everyone agrees should be silent—Takao
sometimes hums to himself or taps his pencil against the desk. It bothered
Midorima at first, but not anymore. It’s another one of those things that makes
the outside world so different than Teiko—there was never any sounds in Teiko,
not like this.
And it’s another thing
that makes Takao so different from everyone else.
*
And still it takes him
entirely surprise, the first time he hears Takao sing. The basketball club goes
to a Karaoke bar (“For team building,” says Miyaji)—Midorima opts out of
singing (no amount of cajoling will convince him to give it a try) but Takao
nearly stops him from breathing.
He has to sit there
the entire time Takao sings and pretend that he doesn’t care at all—that the
sound means nothing to him. Because he thinks that if he doesn’t control
himself this way, he’ll get up and kiss Takao right in front of everyone, or do
something equally embarrassing. He wants to listen to the sound forever and
feels like so much loss when Takao’s turn stops and someone else gets up to
sing.
*
Then it’s just a
matter of catching Takao at it—it happens sometimes, in the same idle way that
Takao sometimes hums. It’s always too short, and Midorima always wishes there
was a way he could capture it forever (it would be too embarrassing to ask
Takao for a recording. He still can’t even admit that he likes the sound).
*
Someday, he thinks.
Someday he’ll tell Takao. Someday he’ll have the song forever.
But for now he keeps
it secret, because it seems like one of those things that no one else should
know.
A/N: Thanks for the
prompt, anon-friend! It was very similar to this prompt here and I almost
thought about combining them, but then thought they would both make interesting
follow-ups to this prompt here. Also, I freely admit this short has some
similarities to this short. Apparently I just like working a theme with these
two.
just moving along like everyone else 