seamoss3s

[seamoss3s]

“Dogs don’t know what they look like. Dogs don’t even know what size they are. No doubt it’s our fault, for breeding them into such weird shapes and sizes. My brother’s dachshund, standing tall at eight inches, would attack a Great Dane in the full conviction that she could tear it apart. When a little dog is assaulting its ankles the big dog often stands there looking confused — “Should I eat it? Will it eat me? I am bigger than it, aren’t I?” But then the Great Dane will come and try to sit in your lap and mash you flat, under the impression that it is a Peke-a-poo… Cats know exactly where they begin and end. When they walk slowly out the door that you are holding open for them, and pause, leaving their tail just an inch or two inside the door, they know it. They know you have to keep holding the door open. That is why their tail is there. It is a cat’s way of maintaining a relationship. Housecats know that they are small, and that it matters. When a cat meets a threatening dog and can’t make either a horizontal or a vertical escape, it’ll suddenly triple its size, inflating itself into a sort of weird fur blowfish, and it may work, because the dog gets confused again — “I thought that was a cat. Aren’t I bigger than cats? Will it eat me?” … A lot of us humans are like dogs: we really don’t know what size we are, how we’re shaped, what we look like. The most extreme example of this ignorance must be the people who design the seats on airplanes. At the other extreme, the people who have the most accurate, vivid sense of their own appearance may be dancers. What dancers look like is, after all, what they do.”

— Ursula Le Guin, in The Wave in the Mind (via fortooate)

[seamoss3s]

Since he was very young he had known that in certain ways he was unlike anyone else he knew. For a child the consciousness of such difference is very painful, since, having done nothing yet and being incapable of doing anything, he cannot justify it. The reliable and affectionate presence of adults who are also, in their own way, different, is the only reassurance such a child can have; and Shevek had not had it.

[seamoss3s]

It was the first time you realized God could not understand you.

[seamoss3s]

[seamoss3s]

Can someone make a Gideon the Ninth themed tarot card deck PLEASE I'll give you all my money.

[seamoss3s]

[seamoss3s]

The cutest treehouses 💜🛖

[seamoss3s]

Getting the gay knights tattoo today I'm so excited

[seamoss3s]

harrow soup comic! harrow soup comic!

took some creative liberties with the structure of it all otherwise it would've been 20 pages long... love u tazmuir and all your words but i removed some for my sake... enjoy...

[seamoss3s]

The way we see the full progression of the dehumanisation of the tributes as the Hunger Games becomes more established and more normalised in the Capitol

In Ballad, they’re like wild animals, caged and starved as a form of revenge

In Sunrise, Haymitch being likened to some kind of pet by his prep team and in the afterparty of the games

In The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, they’re like celebrities trapped in a sick parasocial relationship with the people who will, in a week, get to see them die

The cage is always there- it just evolves to make it more palatable to the viewers

[seamoss3s]

Hmm actually Lucy Gray is different from Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta because her tragedy is she caused the games to continue. If the games hadn't become entertaining, they wouldn't have continued and she made it entertaining because she was an entertainer - she saved herself but she doomed dozens more because she performed too well and it allowed the Capitol to make the games a performance in the later years. Haymitch's tragedy is that he couldn't end the games, Lucy Gray's is that she continued them.

[seamoss3s]

The Tomb

Hey guys... something about the Earth being trapped in an embodiment of the male gaze.... something about the inherent life sentence of being born in a female body... something about an expanse of nature being contained in one tiny prison of a body...

I feel like Alecto was entombed the moment John got his hands on her and tried to mold her into something he could control

[seamoss3s]

Okay but it’s fucking brilliant that one of the themes of the book was about the distortion of history.

Usually prequels are a dangerous thing to write because unless they’re planned out well in advance, they risk contradicting lore in the main series. Even still, we knew barely anything about Haymitch’s games. They were the perfect stomping ground for new information, with a rough series of events but without a close temporal connection to the main books.

But though she had this freedom and safety net, while she could have just written a story that aligned with what we knew, Collins leaned into the idea of contradicting past lore head on and made it the damn thesis of the book; that yeah, actually, it did play out entirely differently from how the characters saw it, and yes that contradicts what you were told, that’s the point.

We didn’t really know what happened in the 50th games until we read it from Haymitch’s perspective, because what little information we did have was spliced up and edited. The video evidence was processed through the Capital, and twisted to serve their purposes.

Tackling that idea of history being written by those in power with a notoriously inconsistent medium? Goddamn, writer that you are, Suzanne Collins.

[seamoss3s]

i’m so appreciative to suzanne for reframing the rebellion from the original trilogy as a “they saw their moment and took it” type situation and showing us that they’ve been trying, over and over, with so many failed attempts, to break the arena and incite a rebellion for decades. in this current political climate never giving up hope is so essential. haymitch wasn’t the first nor the last, and they kept going even when it seemed completely futile, and that’s what counts, and what ultimately saves them all.

[seamoss3s]

[seamoss3s]

god and his saints

[seamoss3s]

Tamsyn Muir truly is something else for creating a world of widespread poverty, instability, and hunger where different cells of a galactic terrorist organization fight each other for power in a setting reminescent of a failed state as a bloody civil looms and a Melancholia-like supernatural entity hangs in the sky and enemy demi-gods threaten to invade and persecute the population AGAIN, and then telling the story through the eyes of a character who perceives barely any of this, cares about none of it, and whose only ambition in life is cuddling with her parental figures, avoiding breakfast, and keeping her place in a gang of schoolkids who fell straight out of a Stephen King novel.