pidgeon-brained

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this sims 2 ad has like such deep gay energy to it. Like this feels like queer history to me

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my white ass is not immune to the nostalgia of viva la vida by coldplay

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"I don't want to read this" is totally valid.

"This is disgusting to me" is totally valid.

"I don't want to read this because it is disgusting to me" is totally valid.

"I don't think anyone should be allowed to read or write this because it is disgusting to me" is authoritarian.

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theo van gogh was the one who suggested that his older brother vincent start seriously painting. as soon as theo was gainfully employed he gave vincent around 15% of his own yearly salary for art supplies, lodging, and food. about 2/3rds of vincent's surviving letters were to theo (including vincent's earliest and last letters), all of which were found stored in theo's desk. theo's child, vincent willem, was born on january 31st, 1890, and vincent was so delighted by his nephew that he painted almond blossoms for him. vincent shot himself half a year later on july 29th, 1890. theo's distress at his brother's death worsened his syphilis symptoms and he died half a year after his brother on january 25th, 1891 (four days before vincent willem's first birthday). theo was reburied next to vincent in auvers-sur-oise at the request of theo's wife johanna.

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junk food is always better than no food

I’ve met people who will actually argue against this (and I suggest just blocking anyone who does) but if your choice is between going hungry and getting fast food or snack food….PLEASE JUST FEED YOURSELF. No food is actually bad enough that it’s better to skip eating entirely. Malnutrition is more dangerous, more immediately, and more long-term than any consequences of eating a damn twinkie or a cheeseburger.

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I have always been a massive Joe hills fan (much of my fan work features them in a large role). Joe is a consistently funny and entertaining streamer who I used to tune into nightly. And while life has gotten busier and I have less time, I still will tune in for a good old relaxation.

Joehills is a fantastical technical player, running through the nether on glass pane bridges he'd constructed was terrifying. I can remember watching other hermits shimmy nervously across them (Mumbo in particular seemed aghast at the idea of anyone traveling across these let alone running) when I started watching hermitcraft in season 6 Joe became an early favorite for me. I watched all of Castle Ravenloft go up.

I will never stop repping the Joehills difference, go give them some love!

in this sunset age of season 10, here's your moment to appreciate Joe Hills, the original new guy. Joe's been here since five weeks into season 1 and is one of the 'hermitcraft council' (the hermits who tend to take on more of the admin work). Joe does hermitcraft slightly differently, but still with the mad ambition of any hermit.

You'll find Joe's builds are matched to maps and blueprints and built to a calculated scale (Castle Ravenloft, The Evergiven, Wizards of Wine Winery, Deepfield Pinball Machine, Castle Hohenzollern, Bell Hooks Laboratory).

Joe's art is not about building, however (it's not content, it's art). Joe is the master of malicious compliance and finds an obscure place in many hermitcraft events and stories. He outplayed Grian in the S6 prank war by calling in an IOU banning Grian from retaliating. He ran season 7 without diamond gear, season 8 without elytra.

It's not about the challenge either, however. Joe cut his Minecraft teeth with ultra hardcore maps, but before that he was streaming art for the webcomic he wrote (Jacque of all blades) on the channel he set up to practice stand up comedy.

Joe has spoken often about curating a community, about ensuring bigots know that they are not welcome. He has spoken about ensuring he's paying his mods, his project manager and any artists he works with fairly (recently he paid a community member to help him accurately depict the way light refracts in a prism). He has mid roll ads turned off and has substituted them with a patreon tier that replaces ads with either a poem or a poetry prompt of Joe's own devising.

This is the Joe Hills difference, a focus on presenting a way of building an ethical community, of streaming in a style that makes it seem possible for anyone to stream, a focus on the hermitcraft community.

Joe Hills is your hermit if you like community areas, thankless tasks, and stubborn determination. Joe Hills is your hermit if you like Cleo's eternal torment (and partner in crime). Joe Hills is your hermit if you want to see someone with the worst luck in the world commit to putting 6 million armour stands into Cleo's storage system off the back of a joke.

Joe Hills (former tyrannous ruler of the hermitcraft server) is often overlooked, despite being Tumblr's duly elected MCYT sexyman. Joe Hills dropped the embargo on the ending of season ten by posting it on linkedin. Joe Hills is putting together the images for the guest streams. Joe Hills threw a coup to get us season two, Mumbo Jumbo, and ZombieCleo.

Joe hasn't gone quiet in the dying days of the server (she never does). So give their recent videos a watch and see how much thought he and Cleo have put into helping Impulse with Metro Mayhem season 2.

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normalise saying ''what the fuck is wrong with you'' to mean people

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Remember calming cat? Remember when tumblr was this color? If you don’t that’s fine. I just feel old and alone.

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Might genuinely be the hardest vote for me

If you don't know these songs, consider giving them a listen before you vote– maybe you'll discover a new favorite!

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I've never seen a fanon interpretation that didn't either:

A) miss the entire point

B) simplify characters down to only one trait

C) drive out the female characters to make gay ships "more canon"

Or

D) miss the point but somehow worse

i think it’s really amazing how total strangers who have nothing in common but their shared love of a work of fiction will come together across distances and dedicate their time and energy working collaboratively to build an extensive, richly detailed fanon that completely fucking sucks

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Nah cause I love calling soda things that aren't it's name. "Can I get a spronk?" "Hand me a boba bola" "god I could use a conk rn." "Mmm yummy pebi."

I misspelled pepsi ONE FUCKING TIME

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i think a lot of white queer/trans people need to hear that "breaking gender norms" isnt just wearing a dress while masc or dying your hair. its also unlearning the beauty standards that impose ideals of white beauty and attractiveness on non-white folks. yes you have a nose ring but i just heard you tell your black friend with meticulously cared for natural hair "you'd just look so nice with straight hair is all im saying..." why does your blog fetishizing i mean uh. appreciating trans women only feature skinny white women who pass. when societal gender norms are so inextricably tied to whiteness and emulating whiteness it is not enough to simply change your aesthetic. you need to defy the gender norms in your own head too.

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Mira loving on her girls + Korean barbecue date

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They used to toss coins and money and like prize tickets in the corn pit to keep kids entertained. I love corn pit

it is simply not a midwest festival without a corn pit

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I remember this one time when I was like 15, and I was looking through a photo album of pictures from when my parents were young, in the late 70s or early 80s, back when they first met and before they got married. Just your average album full of pictures of regular university students of the era, doing their thing, but one picture caught my attention and I had to pause to look at it.

It was taken at a disco or a house party I guess, the room was dark with figures of dancing people in the background, but the focus was on one specific person at the front. A delicate, almost fragile-looking blonde with those round comically big 70s eyeglasses, swinging around to look at the camera with long, gently curly, almost-white pale blonde hair flying in the air in sharp contrast against the dark background, eyes wide, startled by the camera flash like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. There was something weirdly compelling about it, almost haunting.

I gently pulled the picture from its spot on the page and showed it to my mom, and I asked "who is she?"

She took one glance at the photo and said "that's your dad."

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soooo today i learned that back in the early 90s, coca cola tried making this thing called “ok soda” as a marketing stunt to beat out pepsi since they had way more of a hold on the “younger/rebellious” generation at the time, and their way of doing that was naming it “ok soda” so that they could copyright the word “ok”, the most popular word in the world, and at the same time brand it as an…ironic soda??? like the whole thing with it was that they tried to brand ok soda as a counterculture soda but instead of making it about typical 90s RADICAL EXTREME!!! fodder the theme of it was uh. unsettling capitalist brutalist dystopia. instead of being bright and colorful the color scheme was only stark whites, grays and reds and the cans looked like this. bold shapes and labels stating ominous, robotic things with a figure always staring dead into you on the front, no coca cola branding on it at all.

sometimes there would be “prize cans” of this stuff where instead of having soda inside it there would be hats. and they didn’t sell this option in boxes by the way they just put prize cans in random vending machines. and put like 25 cents in it so hey. you could get an actual soda that isn’t just hats. maybe.

did i mention that this soda also had a fucking MANIFESTO??? because yeah it sure had that printed on some cans and it goes as follows

and there’s these things called “coincidences”, which… yeah it doesn’t make it sound any less ominous

and you might be wondering how the soda itself tastes like does it taste good? ok? well apparently it was just a regular “citric” tasting soda but somehow they fucked it up so bad that it was compared to “carbonated tree sap”, and instead of trying to make the drink taste better they included that it tasted like shit, INTO THE ADVERTISING SCHEME ITSELF. they would literally advertise that it tasted like ass as a part of the ironic marketing, no i am not kidding.

but if you thought that’s where it ended there’s one more curveball and without any exaggeration, you will not expect what i am about to tell you.

take a look at this guy.

this guy is the “face” of ok soda, as in he was printed on the most cans and technically served as a mascot of sorts for the entire thing. his face was a major part of the branding, and this design for the cans was one of if not the most common.

okay. cool. no issue there right?

take a guess on who this guy is based off of.

the artist’s coworker? a generic guy? the artist himself? a relative? some random reference model they hired?

CHARLES MANSON. YES, THIS IS REAL. MEANING FOR A BRIEF MOMENT IN TIME, CHARLES MANSON’S FACE WAS USED AS A MEANS TO SELL COCA COLA.

the lead artist himself has even come forward to say this is the case. and now you may be asking wait. how’d he do this? how’d he possibly get away with this, years after the crimes had been committed?

well according to him, it was simple. apparently none of the contracts he signed said anything against putting a mass murderer on the can. so. there’s THAT.

unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you look at it, ok soda never really caught on since *surprise surprise!* teens really don’t want to buy soda that looks like a brutalist art museum, and it never had a wide release so it was only a thing for like two years between 1993 and 1995. but from what i’ve heard there’s still people who are giving this soda a small modern following, collecting all the cans and merchandise and even coming up with stand in recipes for the soda formula itself.

so yeah! that was ok soda.

what the fuck

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i went to "mad at me" island expecting to find people i knew, something i understood. but when my boat landed, standing upon the shore were a million empty husks wearing my own face. every foot of the island was occupied, and everywhere i went, they watched me with contempt. they never spoke, never breathed. they simply watched. no matter how i grovelled and begged, snarled and cursed, tried to hide or kicked and hit, they simply stared. the hatred in their gaze was inescapable, but i could hardly return it, knowing that their doomed existence was of my own creation. knowing that the hatred was nobody's but my own. in the end i just wept, unable to stand the relentless gaze of my own infinite glare.

the guy who i accidentally cut off in traffic last week was there also