finishing an essay feels good for approximately four seconds before you realise you have three more to write
8th attempt to upload, so here’s hoping. Easter Warm-Up Sketch: Dumb Bunny of DC’s Inferior Five
This is going in the folder of things that will make me feel good even when I’m sad.
NO BUT WHEN IT GETS TO THE END AND SMACKS INTO THE WALL AND SHAKES ITS HEAD A BIT AND THEN THE OTHERS ALL PILE UP IN A LITTLE OTTER BUNDLE I CAN’T
Replacing “spear” with “dick” in the Iliad has been one of my best decisions (via knightlypatroclus)
Probably it says a lot about the Iliad that I made it all the way to the end before realising there had even been a substitution.
Not for nothing is it considered one of the earliest examples of a fanfiction.
Love the Cosplay Is Not Consent posters at Sakura-Con! (at Sakura-Con 2014)
It takes one convention to make a public stance about this. I don’t know if ECCC was the first, but it’s the first one I noticed really making a point. I love that it’s spreading!
Felt like the black kiki this morning haha. Now all I need is a broomstick and a black cat.
|—||Replacing “spear” with “dick” in the Iliad has been one of my best decisions (via knightlypatroclus)|
On The Passion of the Christ (via confettihipster)
Also, thank you for inventing the coffee table, apparently.
My niece will play with my Transformers when my nephew does, but she has never shown a real interest in my Transformers comics before. Until I showed her Windblade #1 and told her it was about girl Transformers and she pounced on it like a parched man on a desert oasis. I didn’t realise she wanted female Transformers that much. (She wants a Chromia toy now.) My dream of sharing my hobby with her has come a little closer.
You want to know why Windblade matters? This is why Windblade matters.
Just read a tumblr post from someone I follow who apparently gets abused and ridiculed by men on a regular basis because of how she looks (not reblogging because I don’t know how widely she actually wants that spread) and now I want to punch every man in the universe, probably including myself.
(Yes, men do get that kind of abuse too on occasion — there’s a reason I don’t post photos of myself online — but it’s very different in degree).
Can I resign from being a man, please? Ideally also from being a human, but sadly men do seem to be far more likely to engage in this kind of casual cruelty.
You shouldn’t, and I’ll tell you for why.
Male privilege and socialisation and entirely-artificially-arrived-at societal dominance and all that palaver are the perfect petri dish for growing as selfish, callous and dangerously entitled slicks of lumpy cockjuice as it would ever be anyone’s misfortune to come into direct interpersonal contact with, which unfortunately means there exists an abundance of men whose staggering arrogance is matched only by their capacity for gleeful malice.
The kind of men who, were you given a choice between sharing a waiting room with them for fifteen minutes, or plunging your bare foot into a wellington boot full of curdled pelican vomit, would have you ripping your own socks off like a hungry raccoon trying to unwrap a Snickers.
They tend to be the sort of men who, when informed by a woman that something they’ve done or said is sexist, will dismiss both the information and the woman and then entirely straight-facedly compare the very idea of a woman disagreeing with them to Adolf Fucking Hitler.
"Because," or so runs the reasoning of the great crested Sentient Tower of Rancid Dickbutter, "women exist to support and cater to men, right? So any woman not doing so is Doing Womaning Wrong. Must be because she’s damaged somehow. I get it now, she’s clearly a crazy lesbian feminazi who’s only kicking up a fuss because she’s ugly, right guys? Ha haa! Anyway, let’s do beers and play The Halo and forget all about this unpleasantness.”
But I think it’s harder for That Sort to dismiss it when other men tell them they’re being a sexist dog-anus. Sure, they’ll likely assume that you’re only doing it to trick girls into liking you and you don’t believe a word of what you’re saying, or they’ll start burping on about delusional shite like “internalised misandry” and other such ficticious ailments, but by refusing to conform to the codes of practice of the Ancient and Worshipful Order of Bros, you’re throwing a dirty great fuckoff wooden shoe into the lurching, wheezing machinery that passes for their cognitive abilities.
That’s still a massive fucking part of the problem, though, because the whole fucking point of feminism to drag society kicking and screaming to the point where a woman’s opinion wouldn’t have to be filtered through feminism-supporting men to be perceived to have any worth by sexist shatbaskets. Too much of that and you end up drawing focus away from the actual issue, and down that road lies the pathway to Macklemoredom. But it’s still important that we do it, and it wouldn’t be right for us to walk away from it entirely.
Or from being men. Because the biggest barrier to equality isn’t fed-up women making fun of men or being ‘mean’ or not asking men ~nicely~ to please stop giving women the very shittiest end of the shittiest stick in the shitty woods. It’s the kind of men that make women fed up in the first place. And, as men living in a society that caters to and is set up to primarily benefit men, it’s up to us to clean up our own mess.
Anything with skeletons in it is the fucking best.
Human beings are excluded from this rule.
I am so proud, I made this of nine and ten.