#the problem with Apu

[hypocrisyofandrewdobson]

the fucking apu/black face comic dobson did is my thirteenth reason (for legal reasons im kidding)

but no seriously that is fucking disgusting, i wish i was blind

Christ, I actually forgot about this thing….

Here’s a link proving him an absolute hypocrite about the whole thing, btw.

[albinotanuki]

I was playing around with Photoshop a long time ago and made this.

Am I really the only one who’s ever made this joke?

[choppedcowboydinosaur]

Looking back on the whole Apu controversy I wonder how much of the hatred for Apu is just a form of self hatred among 2nd generation Indian immigrants. I notice its usually 2nd generation Indian immigrants bitching about him. Even, though Apu is a 1st generation Indian immigrant.

[redd956]

Writing & Worldbuilding Good Disability Representation

Unsurprisingly many people have struggled to write disabled characters, while others worry about making mistakes when trying to nail good representation.

In all honesty writing disability can be complicated, because disability itself is so broad. Eventually everyone once in their lives will be disabled in one way or another, whether temporary, from old age, due to mental illness, or simply born that way.

There's so many different kinds of disabilities, and so many different ways they can affect us. The levels of impairment is drastically different from person to person and disability to disability.

Importance of Good Representation

One of the questions I hear the most from older people when it concerns the "oddly diverse" casts of modern shows, is , I explain kindly to them the importance of representation from the perspective of the represented.

I always ask them when you think of Indian-Americans what characters do you think. Due to the Simpsons most pull up Apu, but when I ask if they think Indians like being represented by Apu their mood of the situation changes.

I tell them subconsciously we naturally recall other forms of representation we've seen of a group when encountering someone from said group, good and bad. These characters we see in media are subject to be what we recall, and when they're poor quality people get things wrong or support bigoted stereotypes.

Now when it comes to those disabilities, representing someone wrong can give people the wrong impression how those disabilities work. I would know, I've been told a many times that I'm too young for Fibromyalgia.

When a certain type/variant of disability becomes more prevalent in representation people come to believe it's the only type. Ambulatory wheelchair users, non-limping cane users, and those not completely blind face obnoxious individuals all the time, people who are convinced that the disabled individual is faking because it's not what they're used to hearing about.

If every representation of those with a disability is negative or villainized, then we have issues of demonization forming (think those with ASPD, DID, Bipolar Disorder, or Borderline Personality Disorder)

Avoiding the Inspiration Porn

One of the most annoying tropes of all time, in not just writing, but in reality television, game shows, documentaries, and so much more when concerning those with disabilities is the dreaded "Inspiration Porn"

You've very likely seen it before.

A story about a person with disability so impairing or disabling overcoming all their hardships so that they do one highly specific thing, and isn't just so inspiring, aren't they so cute doing the thing, you should feel inspired right now, you don't have that disability so now it's your turn, alpha red-pill grindset rhetoric, blah blah blah-

Almost every time a disabled character is the focus in a show they are simply there to be something for the audience to feel inspired off of. It tells the lesson of "no matter how bad your life is, it can always be worse."

It's dehumanizing for disabled people to just be a ploy of inspiration for non-disabled people.

It covers up the real struggle in the story, claiming that disabled people are compliant, never complain, and can never be shot down. Disabled people let their pain and problems stop them all the time. Hell! So do non-disabled people.

Not everyone has these resources, or mental resilience, and there is so much more to a disabled character than the arch of achieving something despite a illness.

Disabled people are achieving something despite a illness, they're just achieving something. They're people. I wouldn't say, "Wow Mary got a STEM masters, even though she's a girl."

Sounds sexists doesn't it? Well now think about how disabled people feel when the yearly America's Got Talent season plays inspiring over the top music as a person with a disability does something talented (only to never win anyway).

Common Stereotypes

Ooooooo a disabled villain, a classic. Oh it's the overly innocent childlike Autistic character. And here is the wheelchair bound engineer-

There are many stereotypes for the many disabilities out there. When it comes to disabled characters in general an classic was the disabled villain, often hand and hand with queercoded notions too.

Two major reasons why the disabled villain happens

Writers want a character to look tough or resilient, so they add things like an eyepatch, disfigurements, mechanical arms, etc.

The ugly metaphor of one's inner quality being equal to their monstrous outer qualities. Their broken nature shows in their broken appearance.

The first one is not as annoying, and is much easier to ignore or even explore, creating a more interesting villain. The second...

Although an interesting recurring metaphor, like in James Bond books, if you think about it longer you realize it's ableist energy. Does this mean that all disabled people are also evil on inside?

Having a villain who is disabled isn't bad on its own, however make sure they're not just an extension of the minority-villain.

The same goes for all other disabled characters. Do research on the common stereotypes. Is every psychopath a murderer? Is every wheelchair user calculating and highly intelligent? Does every Autistic person speak with altered distinct speech?

Tons and tons of media, well received and hated, have made use of harmful stereotypes in a mindless way. Even more I hate when I see this trope in fandom.

One of my all time favorite FPS characters is Jager from Rainbow Six Siege, but almost every other depiction of this powerful soldier, part of an international anti-terrorist team, proven to be highly intelligent and adaptable, is shown as innocent-minded and childlike.

Like c'mon people, really?

Cheating Representation

If I show you a disabled character, except they're never hindered by their disability, it's rare ever mentioned, and plays no role in their character ever you'd feel cheated in representation.

If I showed you a character who was only their disability, you'd feel annoyed that they're devoid of personality and are just there to be like, "Hi my name is Fibromyalgia."

Writing a disabled character is a balancing game. They are dynamic like all other characters. A character is not just their species, sexuality, or gender. They are apart of the world you're building.

Many disabled people feel cheated when a disabled character gets a magical or technological cure that basically removes the disabled aspect of the character. I think a good example of characters who have sci-fi/magical additives to their disabilities, that act as aid can be found in Arcane, Avatar the Last Airbender, Adventure Time, and also Steven Universe.

Blending In With The Worldbuilding

An easy mistake everyone can make when writing a disabled character, especially in a fantasy setting, is forgetting to blend them in with the worldbuilding.

Is that a modern wheelchair in a clockwork setting? How come magic isn't included with these kind of things? Can eyepatches be enchanted? Hear me out

Are there disabilities unique to the fantasy species present, in the magic system, or even one you made up solely for worldbuilding's sake?

Why hasn't healing magic or sci-fi medical technology prevented an amputation? Maybe there's rules that play a role here. Let's take for instance some wordbuilding examples from my SOA series.

Although healing magic is prevalent, any healer, cleric or chromatic magic caster, needs just as much medical knowledge as a modern surgeon to get their job done right. The greater the injury the more difficult it is for the magic to work properly, and for the caster to have enough mana or even skill to attempt it.

Amputations are very common to this factor, on account of Castellian warmongering, magic backfiring, and widespread aggressive mercenary groups.

No one's head has ever been reattached successfully by even the most skilled of healers throughout history, cases of so being moments of divine intervention or inexplicable magical wonder.

Amputations are usually replaced by robotic prosthetics in Projectian planets, and Castellite. In Okiea, technology inspired off of the Quinn (a species) has allowed for the popularity of the versatile but fragile Quinn-Style prosthetics. In nations with clockwork deposits, clockwork has always been popular.

Other nations simply buy these prosthetics or designs off of each other from other planets. From most expensive to least- Projectian - Mondiean - Castellian - Quinn - Clockwork - Arethian

Due to expenses, impoverished communities rely on rudimentary prosthetics, such a hooks, still hand molds, and similar.

It is both more difficult and more dangerous to cast through the majority of prosthetics. You have higher chances of magic backfiring, blowing the prosthetic apart and potentially more remaining of the affected limb. It is like they've never casted before with that arm, leg, or tail. Most materials used don't take to casting well anyway, except for the Quin and Clockwork prosthetics.

Sci-Fi, Healing, and Medical Technology

A lot of times, especially for things like amputations, and other injury-acquired disabilities, the immersion can be broke when the disability isn't supplemented by medical technology or magic in high fantasy settings.

If androids exists why doesn't realistic prosthetics exists? If we have floatation devices why don't wheelchair float so that they can better go up and down terrain? Can I have a madmax style battle wheelchair? Why didn't magic just fix the problem?

When worldbuilding with magic and technology I play by the rule- ALWAYS REMEMBER INNOVATION

Intelligent species, like us humans (if you can even call us that anymore), have a natural drive to innovate upon everything we find. We get a new invention, discover a new resource, or come up with a new technology we worked hard to find every single thing we put it into.

In a fantasy world the same would be done with magic, and the technology available. If I see a versatile hoverboard, a floating city, or platform elevator I might wonder why a character would appear with a regular everyday wheelchair, unless there's a worldbuilt explanation for it.

If there's bionic creatures, why no replaceable eyes for eyepatch wearing characters. What magic or technology can make the lives of those who face mental challenges easier?

Are there creatures similar to service dogs about? Or are service dogs a more universally accepted thing than our own world. When worldbuilding you can really play around, making things both better and worse for the disabled characters at play.

Magic, Species, and Casting

When fantasy species and magic are present I wonder if certain disorders are unique to them, and how disorders I'm already familiar with might affect them differently.

What does a orc with dwarfism look like compared to a dragon with dwarfism? Is it even called dwarfism at that point? Can elves be born with extra ears like some cats? Can batfolk have a disability that makes their echolocation impaired?

As for magic is it rare, but well known, that some people are unable to cast? I personally hate the trope of a magical world except there's one character who doesn't have any powers. I don't mind it as a concept itself, but I've just seen it so many times, and often in cheap poorly done settings.

There's so many other ways one could be disabled in the sense of magic, in a world where everyone else has powers. I think D&D wild magic is an amazing example of this.

There's also the conversation of curses acting as a disability themselves. With magic be so widespread, especially in a setting where we have spellcasters like witches and warlocks, why aren't curses widespread?

Does one not grumble every time someone in public has to ask about the story of how they got cursed just like a burn victim explaining their traumatizing past?

Don't Be Afraid To Explore The Bad

All the time I discover people incredibly nervous to work with themes of discrimination, war, torture, and similar things. I think it's important to explore settings where not everything is kittens and rainbows. I also think it can be equally as fun to explore a setting devoid of certain kinds of hate. Both are fun, and have advantages in their storytelling.

But often times stories need conflicts, and one of the most easiest to pull from, is discrimination.

I don't think anybody is terrible for enjoying a sort of angsty or whumpy aspect of writing disabled characters either. We all write and read different kinds of things for many many reasons. Maybe a story filled with darkness and hopelessness evokes a strange somber feeling of hope.

Grim darks, dystopias, and whump stories have come around for a reason. Just try to make sure that any hidden lessons you accidentally form in your writing don't give the wrong impression (I'm looking at you Saw)

[blueberrymash]

ignored hp next gen characters

·˚ ༘ just some harry potter next gen characters that have not been talked about at all and are criminally underrated

·˚ ༘ erin campbell chang, carmen zabini, harbeth finnigan

erin campbell chang ✧.*

daughter of cho chang and mr. campbell. halfblood (ravenclaw?). her mother is still deeply affected by the death of her first love and always will be, this of course rubs off on erin. her parent's marriage is anything but perfect and erin will never find the example of great love in them. as her mother once used to be together with harry potter, this is all that erin gets associated with. "the daughter of the ex girlfriend of harry potter". cho chang possesses great beauty and is very smart and erin feels like she'll never quite live up to being the spitting image of her mother.

carmen zabini ✧.*

daughter of pansy parkinson and blaise zabini. pureblood slytherin, just like her mom and dad. filthy rich. she has a brother named marco. lots of generational curses trying to be broken in their household and let's just say her and her brother had a very messy upbringing. her parents try to raise her differently than they've been raised, wanting to teach her more tolerant views and lead her down a not-so-conservative and not-so-death-eater path. i'm not sure how much blaise and pansy participated in the war but they probably also had to face jail time in azkaban, which must've messed them up a lot. carmen faces a lot of prejudice because of her parent's past and isn't always met with kidness. sometimes, carmen feels like she'll always be seen as the daughter of death eaters and that people don't even bother getting to know her because she must be just like them and "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree".

harbeth finnigan ✧.*

son of seamus finnigan and lily moon. halfblood gryffindor. has a younger brother named apus. like erin, his parent's marriage is probably one of convenience rather than love. harbeth's father is gay and in love with his best friend and harbeth's godfather, dean thomas. seamus was one of the main fighters in the war, which leaves him with ptsd, anxiety and so on. harbeth's father tries, but he's too occupied with his own problems to care properly for his two children. he's present and involved in their lives but never completely. their family has a great reputation nonetheless and harbeth is always met with respect wherever he goes because "his father was such a good fighter back then in the war".

should I elaborate on this?

[talanashta]

💜💜💜

What's Heinz been up to? :)

Mostly developing an antagonistically loving relationship with Linda XD Thanks for the ask!

Except Perry cleared his throat as soon as he’d pivoted, so Heinz looked back at him, seeing him standing there with his brows raised and his hands on his hips. “What, Perry the Grump-apus?” Heinz asked snarkily. “Can’t you see I’m busy trying to prove her wrong?” “You’re not proving anything!” Linda said. “Everything you’ve said so far this morning has been factually incorrect.” He opened his mouth to argue back, but Perry let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. [You’re both Lawrence’s problem this early in the morning,] he signed, before turning on his heel and leaving the room, and Heinz saw him go back up the stairs through the dining room doorway. “Well, look at what you’ve done,” Heinz complained, gestured wildly at the doorway. “You scared him off.” “I scared him off?” Linda asked, brow furrowed. “You’re the one insisting he has to be right about everything.” “Nuh-uh,” he said back. “Uh-huh,” she said, and then suddenly they were like five-year-olds, just ‘nuh-uh’-ing and ‘uh-huh’-ing at each other back and forth, Heinz sticking his tongue out at her at one point. “You are just so frustrating!” Linda snapped, smacking her hands against the counter.

✨ Make me write! ✨

[luaminesce]

As much as I enjoy RTD's work on Doctor Who and outside of it; I feel like the reckoning, or rather reevaluation, of the problematic elements of his work has been a long time coming.

During Moffat's run as head honcho, RTD's era was often presented as the "progressive" equivalent to a lot of the problems with Moffat's writing on DW. Whilst I'd say some of that holds up still, with the added nuance that Moffat, at the very least, did try to improve on things (Vastra and Jenny for one, giving Clara a better character arc in s8), as well as the shows first QBIPOC character (Bill Potts), though still with a shitton of problems (see: Danny Pink and Cyber-Bill); it outright ignored, or worse, disregarded, the criticism from (especially) Black fans of the show pointing out the misogynoir directed towards Martha Jones and the (early 2000s-era mind you) fatphobia present.

In a way, it is kinda emblematic of Tumblr's wider problem with binary, "progressive" versus "problematic" consumption of media back in the 2010s, and even now (see: SU crits and Edelgard discourse). Rather than taking a nuanced approach to media, acknowledging that all media has progressive and problematic elements, everything existed on a binary of "good, unproblematic" media, and "bad, problematic" media; and frankly, it wasn't any different with DW, given its popularity here. The disregard for BIPOC fans' criticism (across the board, not just towards RTD, but also Moffat), in addition to more historic fan racism (see: Rose being lionised where Martha was villainised), just lead to this black-and-white thinking of the show; and failed to acknowledge that no, RTD's era wasn't perfect. It was almost as flawed as Moffat's, in some respects.

I love Doctor Who; but the show needs to treat its BIPOC characters, and fans, a hella lot better. I treat it the same as The Simpsons, another favourite show of all time, or Fire Emblem. I can enjoy both medias, whilst still being critical of their racist (Apu, for example) and problematic elements (the way Dimitri's psychosis/schizophrenia is handled in Three Houses).

[beardedmrbean]

Oh sorry, I not raise a fan of ATLA anymore

But y’all get ready for the shitstorm,

I’m the villain in a robe in a background evil smiling as everything get burn down

MUHAHAHAHA!

But also this

https://x.com/esemicolonr/status/1779206669207056485?s=46

Also one thing, just because you’re a child of immigrants DOESN’T MEAN YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR PARENTS CULTURES!

Long vid but this apu shitshow started with this idiot

https://youtu.be/9XLVvQAgiFE?si=dirkSMtJCnCRB_dO

Yes better rep…but the problem is those dispora people overlook how Americanized as hell they truly are

Like I learn that Mexicans and Indians can tell a Chicano or Indian American a mile away

Fuck i thought Nikki Haley was a white southern chick until I learn she Indian

Ugh I hate identity politics, hmm sorry, another one points out a huge issue soon

Browser crashed so I'm going short version instead of writing everything again

But y’all get ready for the shitstorm, I’m the villain in a robe in a background evil smiling as everything get burn down

This would be beyond hilarous, also I posted it by itself so it's easier for people to crack jokes on

Also one thing, just because you’re a child of immigrants DOESN’T MEAN YOU KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR PARENTS CULTURES! Long vid but this apu shitshow started with this idiot

Yay @jlongbone I do miss seeing vince vaugn all the time, lol

Guy isn't popular even in some Indian circles for screwing over Apu like that iirc.

Yes better rep…but the problem is those dispora people overlook how Americanized as hell they truly are Like I learn that Mexicans and Indians can tell a Chicano or Indian American a mile away

Latinos do it by who's wearing the DBZ shirt usually, lol.

Fuck i thought Nikki Haley was a white southern chick until I learn she Indian

Extra shock Nikki is a Indian name

Ugh I hate identity politics, hmm sorry, another one points out a huge issue soon

We've been at a stage for a while now where people see fit to tell people of a particular culture that they're wrong about how their culture should be handled and such.

One of my fav examples.

Then we get.

Stupid question really, we all know why and it's not the bullshit "appreciation" some people tried to claim, not with everything else that's been called out over the cultural appropriation nonsense.

Double standard is pretty consistent, it's how trudeau managed to keep his job after all his blackface and weird dress up stuff.

Short answer yes, the Japanese love seeing it so unless you want to talk over the people you claim to be protecting shut up.

Also I traced the kimono back across time and continents and amazingly enough it's a item of clothing that's evolved and been adapted by different people and cultures all over the world and they all have their own take on it.

Nobody owns it

[joshuaballsett]

honestly fixing the apu conundrum is really easy, just do it like they did homer having been a fucking moron for all his life because he had a crayon stuck in his brain, apu had this shit voice because some kwik-e-mart dirty sausage has been stuck in his throat for decades bam wham shabam problem fixed

[c0zmo-writes]

Harpy AU part 2 (3/7)

Here is part 2 of the Beetlejuice Harpy AU! Hope you enjoy. This talks a lot about how governments work. I can go more into culture later if anyone is interested in that.

@possum-quesadilla @crawlingcarcass

In a place inspired by Iguazu Falls, there is a large cluster of almost 30 harpy flocks. Despite them all living in the same place, flocks are different in their own way. They have unique languages, genetic traits, and governments. There are four main regions, treetop, forest floor, wetlands, and cliffside.

Flocks are named after constellations and one flock will have between 16 and 28 harpies. Flocks are usually 4-7 families, but that’s not always the case. Some flocks, like Capricornus, are split between two different regions. Other flocks are so similar to each other, it can be hard to differentiate between them.

Treetop

Some traits of treetop harpies include: longer claws/talons, more articulate joints, wings designed for soaring, above average hand-eye coordination and depth perception. Unfortunately, they are more susceptible to heart problems. They typically have weaker leg muscles.

Lives: In tree houses.

General diet: bugs, birds, fruit

Treetop flocks: Apus, Aquila, Ara, Corvus, Draco, Volans.

Forest Floor

Some traits of forest floor harpies include: shorter claws/talons, stronger and longer legs, fluffy feathers at their ankles, and smaller, weaker wings. They’re more prone to vitamin d deficiency.

Lives: in huts made from wood, leaves, and mud.

General diet: birds, bugs, small critters, fruits, nuts, seeds, plants

Forest Floor flocks: Canis Major, Canis Minor, Centaurus, Lepus, Lupus, Orion.

Wetlands

Some traits of wetlands harpies include: long claws/talons, webbed hands and feet, water resistant feathers, wide feet, can hold breath for around 6-10 minutes

Lives: in burrows by the river

General diet: fish, birds, insects

Wetlands flocks: Eridanus, Hydra, Aquarius, Capricornus, Cetus, Cygnus, Delphinus, Dorado, Grus, Pisces

Cliffside

Some traits of cliffside harpies include: very long claws/talons, great hand/foot strength, prehensile tails, large hands and feet, great night vision

Lives: in dens created in cliffsides. Homes are typically connected by a tunnel system.

General diet: birds, small critters, whatever vegetation they can get

Cliffside Flocks: Equuleus, Hercules, Mensa, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor

I’ll focus on Canis Major and Canis Minor for now, as those two are similar and Juno is from Canis Minor. These two flocks are very close. They have a similar language, and the communities are very close knit. They have their differences, though.

Canis Major

There is one leader and one assistant.

Power is given based on which harpies are best at hunting. Every year on the summer solstice, the ten best contenders are released into the forest. They spend a day hunting. The winner is the harpy who brings back the most food. The assistant is the harpy who brings back the second most food.

If more than half of the flock decides that the leader isn’t a good fit, a vote will be held on the autumn equinox. If more than half of the harpies vote out the leader, the assistant will take over as leader until a better harpy is selected by the flock.

Members of the Canis Minor flock are allowed to take over as Assistant. They can be promoted to Leader if members of the Canis Major flock allow it.

Canis Minor

There is only one leader.

Power is given based on which harpy is strongest. Age and relations are determining factors as well. Harpies in this flock are able to sign up to fight. They will fight until the five strongest are selected. Every 4 years on the autumn equinox, an event called The Crimson Week happens. On the first day, the weakest of the five strongest will battle the current Leader. On the next day, the second weakest will battle the current Leader. Third day, third weakest will battle, fourth day, second strongest will battle. The fifth and sixth days are used for the current Leader to rest and recover. Finally, they battle the strongest of the five. Whoever wins is the leader.

If more than half of the flock decides that the leader isn’t a good fit, a vote can be held at any time. If more than half of the flock votes out the leader, the spot will go either to the leader’s mate, the oldest member of the flock, or the second strongest in the flock.

There are 27 other flocks and I don’t want to talk about all of them right now, so I’ll just do a general thing for ‘em. If anyone is interested in this, I can absolutely go into more detail about other parts of this.

Treetop

Power is generally given based off of age, with older harpies having more respect and power. Younger harpies are expected to care for their elders.

Wetlands

Power is generally given based on which harpy can construct the safest and most efficient houses. As these harpies live right next to rivers, it is very important that homes can’t be easily destroyed by water.

Cliffside

Power typically isn’t given to one person. Instead, communities work together to build dens, gather resources, and keep other flocks safe.

That’s what I’ve got for now! If there’s anything you want to be clarified, expanded on, or talked about, just send an ask! I promise I don’t bite :)

[childofsquidward]

Books I Read In 2022 (and by read I mean actually liked)

The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar

“This is one of those moments that I want to bottle up and keep with me forever. Not because it’s extraordinary, or because it’s the kind of thing you would find in a Bollywood movie. But because it’s the kind of moment I could never have dreamed of having in a million years.”

⭐⭐⭐⭐

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

I’ve been meaning to read Adiba Jaigirdar’s work for a while now because, come on, a coming-of-age story about a queer Bangali girl living abroad? This is something I dream-journaled about and I’m really happy that teens now can have a book like this. I’m going to try and keep my thoughts as organized as I possibly can (keyword: try).

=>Nishat

I want to start off by saying that Nishat is a fantastic protagonist. I might be a little biased and irrationally protective of her, but I found Nishat to be a very balanced main character. She might come off as self-centred in certain parts of the book but I think a lot of people overlook what she’s going through and the fact that she is apologetic towards Priti and towards her friends. 

Initially, I had a visceral reaction to both the insensitive comments from Jess and the way Priti outed her sister and then called her selfish for being upset. 

However, once I sat with the book for a while I was able to be a little more understanding of the way Adiba Jaigirdar chose to portray these relationships. 

While Nishat had Priti to express her problems to, Priti could not do the same in turn. I can sympathize with her feeling isolated and in the middle of this silent war between her parents and her big sister, but I think it was really shitty of her to not come clean and apologize to Nishat. Throwing their grandmother’s health in her face was absolutely uncalled for. 

I appreciated the reconciliation between Nishat and her friends a lot more. Both Nishat and I had the same realization that Chaewon just wanted to be able to share her culture in this project and that it’s as important to her as henna is to Nishat. And Jess joking about Nishat having terrible taste in girls if there was some truth to Chyna’s rumours was the most best-friend-y she could’ve comforted her.

Nishat is also absolutely hilarious. The fact that she bought all the henna from the store Flávia was going to use was amazing, that is business women, I don’t care what anyone else has to say. Her resilience is something I would’ve looked up to if I had this book when I was younger. Scratch that, it’s something I think I can still look up to now as an adult.  

=>Nishat and Flávia

This book wasn’t as romance-heavy as I anticipated, but I was really invested in Nishat’s story and I think Nishat and Flávia’s relationship was still given the space to grow and to shine. 

I was expecting a rivals-to-lovers storyline, but instead, I got a childhood friends-to-somewhat rivals-to-lovers storyline which I think preferred. Childhood friends-to-lovers is my favourite trope and I like the way that it was done here.

 Nishat referring to the first time they see each other again at a wedding as her “Bollywood moment” was so cute! And it was so sweet that they still remembered certain things about each other. 

Overall, despite all the hurdles in their relationship, I did actually like their story.

=>Things I really appreciated, in no particular order.

The trigger warning at the beginning. Some of y’all were so shocked by the level of racism and homophobia in this book as if we weren’t made aware of this. I appreciate trigger warnings because as much as I love reading, I have my limits. Also, yes this is my PSA for everyone to read the trigger warnings! 

There was this brief conversation that Nishat had with her Sunny Apu that I appreciated because we got this fucking masterpiece of a line: “Sunny Apu, you don’t even pray namaz.” This hit so hard because it really is like that. People who’ve never even the Quran, who don’t know a single surah - these are the people with the most opinions on Islam and what makes a “good Muslim” like, get outta here.

Nishat getting happy when Priti’s impressed by the henna that she did, because older siblings seek just as much validation from their younger siblings that they do from them.

I mostly enjoyed Nishat and Priti’s bond as well. I didn’t grow up with sisters myself, but there were moments where I either related to Nishat as an older sister, or she and Priti reminded me of my cousins. Them calling each other ‘gadha’ and ‘chagol’ is just the beginning in terms of Bangali expressions that were used in the same way other authors would use very American language and expect everyone else in the world to just connect the dots.

Obviously, I didn’t live through Nishat’s exact experience, but there were still little things that I related to which is something that rarely happens with other books. Even something as simple as her Abbu reading Bengali news while her Ammu scrolls through Facebook for gossip was enough to bring a stupidly large smile to my face. Or the comment about “weddings of people we barely knew but were somehow related to.” And in that same vein, we had this line, “She’s Ammu’s aunt’s cousin’s daughter.”

=>Things I didn’t totally love.

Listen, I’m so happy Nishat’s parents came around, it was very sweet and I’m happy that we were able to end on a positive note. But I feel as though for a book of this length we could’ve gotten a better resolution because it kind of came out of nowhere.

That last bit with Chyna also came out of nowhere, but okay I guess, great that she’s trying to be a decent being.

I was not a big fan of the pacing is what I’m trying to say. The writing style in general felt a little all over the place to me, but it was a really strong debut.

I want to end my spiel by addressing the main plot of the book since people are so divided on it. The entire concept of this book is something that really resonated with me because I fully empathize with Nishat’s frustration. I understand other South Asian people have their own opinions on cultural appropriation and that’s perfectly fine, but for me personally, while I think it’s wonderful when we share our culture with the world, I find myself getting defensive when others think they have some sort of claim over my culture. Yes, there are many artistic elements to henna, but it’s not meant to be treated as paint or crayons - it is not a fucking tool, especially to be used by people who call them tattoos, and especially if someone like Chyna, known racist bully and all-around menace, is the one trying profit off of it. (Also, the “Holi party”? The stencils? Please tell me this isn’t what some of y’all are defending.)

(Also I totally made a playlist that’s constantly being updated because I have no self control like that.) x

[tremarctoss]

Such Selfish Prayers (And I Can't Get Enough)

Warnings: minors DNI, smut, dark.

ao3

He truly looks like a god of death in this light, warm afternoon summer rays kissing his skin and making it as golden as the wings he is wearing. He takes a step towards me. - Put that gun away sweetheart. - I hear fear in Finnick’s voice but my brain does not believe him. He lied to you so many times, it says. I pull the trigger. or Finnick Odair never participates in the third Quarter Quell. He is also the only Victor to become a Capitol citizen. [Saltburn and Romeo + Juliet inspired]

Part 1/4

- I beg you, - my brother says. - have some fun. Fuck a guy, lose that v-card, live a little.

The noise inside the castle is intense, flashing lights adding to my growing headache. 

We were supposed to grieve, I want to scream, not party on the grave of our mother.

A man appears behind my brother

- This is Finnick Odair. - My brother says and he smiles like a child who got a shiny new toy but got bored of it already and wants to give it away.

- I know. - I tell him because everyone knows who Finnick is.

He is wearing only trousers that do not conceal the muscles on his thighs. Dark navy in stark contrast with his tanned skin that shined whenever he moved. His shoulders were broad and his neck elegant. A great example that male bodies could be beautiful too. My eyes linger on the soft gold wings glittering in the light inside the castle. 

- Ikarus? - I ask. Because who could he be? Hermes wore shoes with wings and I don’t see any on his feet. 

- Juliet. - Finnick answers and smiles, showing me his teeth. I feel like a punchline of a joke.    - Well, I hope you will find your Romeo here, now if you both could please excuse me.

And then I run away.

I grab a blanket and slip outside not being stopped by anyone. People in the gardens are so drunk and high that I hope they won’t notice me leaving either. I walk through fields full of naked people with some demanding I peel off my clothes while others tell them to shut up as I am a sister and daughter to the newest owners of that castle. I try to appear unbothered by their comments as I walk further away.

I stay in the distance from the forest. There is this feeling lingering in the back of my mind that I am being watched from there 

I go through a short maze done from the rose bushes, where I see fewer and fewer people. Most of them are fucking but I don’t think all of them are willing participants. I almost tell two men to stop taking a clearly drunk girl when I remember there is no one to help me here. 

I start running, not only from them but from someone watching me from the forest too. The vineyard is next, the grass there is low and not a problem for my delicate sandals. I think about stopping somewhere there in the middle when I don’t feel the eyes on me anymore but I spot blueberry hedges next. 

I’ve never been this far from the castle.

I can see lights far away and hear some noises but the dark sky is clear here and I spot the stars I know up there. I lay down the blanket, take off the shoes and kneel down myself. The Apus shines brightly on me, making me wonder what I am wrong about as the Greeks used to be wrong about the birds of paradise.

Someone is coming, their steps loud in the grass and not from the direction of the forest. 

- Finnick. - the surprise but also longing can be easily heard in my voice. I hope darkness will mask my blush.

He stops before me and I watch him take off his shoes and step on the blanket. I try to move further to give him space but he kneels in front of me instead. His wings look more silver here, and the sky stains them with a cobalt shade.

You shouldn't be alone so far away. It’s dangerous.

His breath is hot against my face and I do my best to not look away when his eyes find mine in the darkness. 

- You are here with me, - I say.  - What is there to be afraid of? 

- There are always things to be afraid of. - He says with caution, something terribly sad flashing for a second in his eyes. 

It makes my heart ache, that look he has. I press my lips against his soft ones and immediately his hand is at my neck. The earth feels like it is shifting beneath me but it’s just Finnick sliding his tongue against my lips and his hand moving up my face and keeping me in place when I moan against him. His tongue slips further, past my teeth and touches my own tongue briefly before sucking it into his own mouth.

- Was it your first? - He asks and I close my eyes ashamed even though his voice is soft and lacking judgement. - Because I want all of your firsts.

His mouth is hot against my forehead, the tip of my nose and my mouth again. I try my best to keep up with the way he kisses me but it seems like I do not stand a chance against him. All I can do is moan when his tongue touches mine. His hand frees my face and glides down my body until it stops at my nipple and pinches it through all the fabrics. Finnick kisses me under my ear. His voice is warm against the skin there.

- Undress, - he tells me and takes his hands away.

My hands shake both with excitement and some kind of fear when I tug the dress up my body. Finnick undoes my bra just as the dress gets almost stuck in my hair over my head. I cannot stop the giggle that escapes me. Finnick kisses me until I stop laughing and helps me out of my bra. His hands are on my breasts immediately, stroking the skin and pinching my nipples. 

- All. - Finnick says, sitting down on his ass this time and watching me while his hand starts unzipping his own trousers. 

He looks like one of the Erotes this time. I hope that he is more like Eros than Himeros for my own sake. I raise up and slide the delicate lingerie down my legs. It’s not plain but the girlish design of pink ruffles is not something I imagine girls wearing on dates with men like him. Finnick takes the panties from my hand just as I am about to toss them next to my other clothes. He puts it inside his pocket and I am back on my knees in front of him.

He takes my right hand in his and kisses it slowly before bringing it together with his in between my legs. 

- You are so wet, does it happen often? - he says and starts moving our fingers together, stops when my hips start grinding and my knees shake.

He takes his hand away and rises above just so he can push down his trousers and step out of them. He’s not wearing any underwear.

He could be Pothos too, I think at that moment, because all I can see right now is how much I want him. I wet my lips watching Finnick glide his hand along the length of himself and stare at me as I slowly circle my clit. His other hand moves the hair from one side of my face behind my ear and tugs me very gently up by my neck.

- None of that, - he says kissing my forehead. - not yet. Give me your hand. 

- No, not this one. - He chuckles when I give him my left. 

He kisses it anyway and sucks one of my fingers into his mouth humming around it. He releases it suddenly and I feel his hand taking my right one from in between my legs. 

- You did not answer me. - He says, wrapping my wet hand around his length. His hand stays around my fingers and he starts moving up and down his member. I follow his movements the best I can.

- No, - I say and I don’t recognize the wanton tone that I hear. - Never that much.

Finnick grunts and his body shakes when he comes, white droplets of his semen ending on my breasts and stomach.

- Look at you, - he says, smearing everything with our fingers. - you’ve made a mess. 

He brings one of mine and two of his fingers to my mouth and I suck on them, a salty flavour is the main thing I taste. I graze our fingers with my teeth lightly.

- No biting, - he says, pulling them away and kissing my forehead. - but you were such a good, sweet girl. Lay down.

I watch him search his pants and a condom lands on a blanket. Finnick moves over me and wipes my chest with the left side of my dress. His hands are back on my breasts in no time and he kneads and pinches them, rolls my nipples in his fingers. I cannot stop the noises that are leaving my mouth when he does it. I am not sure that I want to. 

His hands move lower, down my stomach and start tracing lines of my hip bones and my body raises from the blanket. He chuckles and moves his hands down to my tights and squeezes them.

- You’re so responsive, - he says while his hands move up stopping on both sides of my sex. - But stay still now, princess.

His fingers started sliding inside me, just one I think, and I could never stop myself from clenching around them. Shame fills me suddenly, the thought that I am here in the open with my legs spread wide before a man that I met only in passing. That anyone could take a photo of me or record me with a man who may want to never see me again. A man I pictured almost daily since that night when he helped me get my drugged friend out of a party.

I whine when his fingers are completely out.

- I want to see you, - he says. - Move your face and open your eyes.

I almost run away when he smirks at me.

- Come precious.  - He tells me and puts his fingers back, stroking my clit and massaging my inside walls with two of his fingers until I break.

Satisfied just once I hump the air when he takes his hand back.

- Look at you, - he says in a voice low and dark. - your cunt all bare and wet and wanting for my cock. Do you think you are ready for it? Do you want me to continue? Or do you want me to stop?

- No, please don’t stop, - I will probably be ashamed later how needy I sound, how desperate. - please just fuck me.

He kisses my cunt once, licks it and then moves up kissing my stomach and under both of my breasts before he slides his tongue into my mouth. I whine when he moves away from me and watch him roll a condom onto his shaft. He enters me with one long thrust. It does not hurt at all and when he moves again I cannot stop my moans again. He watches me the whole time, pushing my knees up and over his shoulder. I touch one of his wings with my food accidentally and he bites my calf.

- Good girl, you’re so beautiful like this. - He says as he leans over me, his hips moving slowly in a steady rhythm. I desperately want to believe his words.

- First time and already cockdrunk for me. - One of his hands moves down on my belly and presses slowly and I feel him hitting a spot inside me more violently. I curl my toes while my hand scratches his own. - Do you think any other man will make you feel like this? That you will find in someone else what I am giving you now?

I don’t think I am loud when I come but my body shakes so violently I almost can't breathe. Finnick keeps me close when it happens and kisses me after, calling me his good girl again. He watches me closely, his pupils wide and dark, and his hands sliding up and down my body the whole time. I shiver and almost choke on air from embarrassment when I ask if he could kiss me one more time. 

- Just kiss?  - He asks and his smile is cocky but he kisses me and later fucks me with his tongue and mouth, turns me over and enters me again from behind.

- Does it hurt? - He asks and one of his hands slides down in front of my body. - I could break you but I don’t think you want it just yet.

I watch our shadow and it looks like some kind of fallen angel got his hand on me and now is trying to push me to hell.

- I feel a little sensitive, - I tell the truth. - But it’s nothing I cannot handle.

I am scared he may leave me but he just pushes my head down and digs his nails into my hips. I come so hard my throat gets raw from screaming and I need help turning on my back after he finishes himself. The world turns black when his hand touches my forehead.

I wake up in the late morning when the sun is high and shining straight in my face through the windows in my bedroom in the castle. I do not remember getting back here. I check under the blanket and see my naked body with teeth marks in several places.

- Go on a pill, okay? - Finnick's voice sounds behind me and I turn around. He is getting dressed in a crispy white shirt with dark buttons. He looks well-rested.

- And drink water. - He adds stopping in front of me. - I would love to claim that you fainted because I was so excellent but you were most probably dehydrated. 

He squats in front of me and moves my tangled hair out of my face. I hold my breath when he moves closer to me. I did not brush my teeth or shower. Finnick chuckles against my lips. His hand grasps my hair tighter and his tongue enters my mouth when I groan. He, on the other hand, did brush his teeth.

- There’s a paper with a gynecologist's name your family won’t dare to bother in your backpack. I want to feel all of you the next time, okay? And she’ll give you my medical information so you can be sure I am clean.

He kisses me once again and gets up to leave.

- How will I find you?

- You won’t. But I will find you for sure.

I don’t care that I may appear desperate. I call the doctor’s office the same day. It’s one of the professors my brother complains about the most. My appointment is scheduled for the very next day. The woman does not comment about the bruises on my legs.

The receptionist gives me an overly nice smile after.

- We don’t send blood test results via email. You’ll schedule the appointment right away. All the medications to be picked up here every 30 days by you are the person who sends you here. 

There is a delivery woman with a bunch of white flowers the day after. There is no card, only an envelope with my birth control pills. I search for their meaning online. White hydrangeas were sent in Victorian times to a person someone disliked. For Catholics, they were associated with the Virgin Mary while now they mostly mean innocence and fresh starts. 

Mixed signals much, Finnick.

A disposable Polaroid camera comes six days later along with a prepaid package to be collected the next day. I cancel all my appointments. 

PMS, I send my friends, see you either in two or seven days.

I get mostly “gross” and “tmi” in a response.

What I am supposed to send him, does he want to see me masturbating? Fucking myself on the fingers? Pushing my breasts in front of the camera? Photos of me in various lingerie? Or maybe… I am not sure if I am brave enough to go with my plan.

I put on my PMS outfit: a too-big sweater over tracksuits, shades and sneakers. I pool the hood over my head. Several hours later I come back sweaty with a heavy bag, my pride injured by meeting my enemy in that outfit and having much less money after buying everything. 

I take a shower, wash my hair and style it in lazy waves. I put on my favourite tulle dress, a dark one with stars and planets embroidered by hand. I do not put on any underwear or petticoats. I light all the candles I have and bring them to my bedroom, mess up my bed and move a pillow in the middle.

I take out the two last disposable cameras I bought and a marble bust statue I got from some extravagant artist who created it. It is supposed to resemble Finnick from two years ago but I have problems with seeing the similarity. The gold paint makes it tacky but I had no time to search for anything else. I put it on the pillow and the camera on a tripod. I add two books on the tripod to have the camera even higher and set the timer. The flash is so strong I am sure all of my neighbours are blinded. I close my curtains and hope for the best.

The photo is slightly blurry and yellow with an artistic vibe of a cat peeing on the work of a fourteen-year-old girl. It will have to do. 

I move the statue a little and look in the mirror. It’s supposed to look like I am sitting on his face and letting him eat me out. I start fingering myself and grinding a little as I get wetter. I look at the photo I took and compare it with where my face is when I look at myself in the mirror. No way I am sending him photos where he can see my face. 

I set the timer and almost trip on my way back to the bed. The light is so strong I barely see anything. Anxiety and excitement fill me when I wait for the photos to appear. They all look slightly yellow and blurry in an artistic way but they look the way I wanted. I appear much more desperate and needy in them than I felt. 

I take some typical “sexy” selfies with the second camera and choose just four photos I like the best. I rip others and flush them in the toilet. The last camera I use in the bed again. I take all the pillows and put them in head on the bed. Put the marble statue in front of them. I lay down before it and spread my legs. It’s supposed to give the vibes of me fingering myself in front of his face. I put a finger in myself the same moment I press the button. The photos come out blurry and my orgasm is weak at best but I am exhausted. 

I put all the photos in the box, add a miniature pink statue of "Psyche Revived" by Cupid's Kiss from the same artist, close it and write “Give me my sin again”. I put my box into a bigger box. I use so much tape on it that one cannot see the paper and put the tracking number with a marker on it.

The courier comes early in the morning when I am still too sleepy to think about destroying the package. 

Days come and go, I get my period and still no call. I check the package on the tracking site and decide to pay him a visit when my period ends.

By “pay him a visit” I mean have breakfast in a cafe near the building the package was sent to. And coming to another one the very next day. I give up on my third and stare at the ugly gold head that is gathering dust by one of the windows in my bedroom. 

I have two options now: either try to ignore him every chance I may run into him - and there are not many, let’s be honest here - or I hang out in the arena the package got delivered and hope I will run into him. 

My phone vibrates and I ignore it. It rings again and I start searching for it under the covers in hopes I can hurl it across the room. The thought of Finnick possibly calling me makes me throw everything, including my dignity, on the floor. It stings even more when I see the name of my brother on the screen.

- I’m not doing any coke runs for you. - I tell him and almost hang up on him.

- Whoa, what has happened to you? I thought your PMS was over? And it happened two years ago and just once! - he sounds insulted actually. Most probably because someone is laughing in the background. 

I know this laugher, Finnick you fucking asshole.

- I don’t have time, just text me. - I snap and almost hang up on him again.

- Okay, just tell me if you are coming to Rockingham tomorrow?

- Why would I want to do that?

- The golden ass party? Do you read my emails? 

- No. - I admit. The image of naked people with their behinds painted makes me almost throw up. - Who came up with the name?

- Finnick. - he sounds smug and I almost choke before I remember what “The golden ass” is about.

- I didn’t know any of you two could read that many books. - I say as I move, as silent as a cat, to my wardrobe. - Yeah, I will be there.

[gothicprep]

does anyone else remember that “the problem with apu” documentary? there was basically an entire b plot in that doc that involved the presenter being ass mad that hank azaria wouldn’t sit for an interview with him because he was concerned about deceptive editing.

I get that you need to pad the runtime, but come on.

[histrorybygosh]

XB-35

Crew: 9: pilot, copilot, bombardier, navigator, engineer, radio operator, three gunners

Powerplant: 2 × Pratt & Whitney R-4360-45 Wasp Major 28-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engines, 3,000 hp (2,200 kW) each mounted left and right outboard

Powerplant: 2 × Pratt & Whitney R-4360-47 Wasp Major 28-cylinder air-cooled radial piston engines, 3,000 hp (2,200 kW) each mounted left and right inboard

Maximum speed: 391 mph (629 km/h, 340 kn)

Cruise speed: 240 mph (390 km/h, 210 kn)

Range: 7,500 mi (12,100 km, 6,500 nmi)

Service ceiling: 39,700 ft (12,100 m) (restricted to 20,000 ft (6,096 m) due to APU problems)

Guns: 20 × .50 in (12.7 mm) M3 Browning machine guns in six remotely controlled turrets and one tail stinger

Bombs: 52,200 lb (23,678 kg) of bombs, maximum

[byneddiedingo]

The Apu Trilogy

Subir Banerjee in Pather Panchali (Satyajit Ray, 1955)

Cast: Kanu Bannerjee, Karuna Bannerjee, Chunibala Devi, Uma Das Gupta, Subir Banerjee, Runki Banerjee, Reba Devi, Aparna Devi, Tulsi Chakraborty. Screenplay: Satyajit Ray, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar.

When I first saw Pather Panchali I was in my early 20s and unprepared for anything so foreign to my experience either in life or in movies. And as is usual at that age, my response was to mock. So half a century passed, and when I saw it again both the world and I had changed. I now regard it as a transformative experience -- even for one whom the years have transformed. What it shows us is both alien and familiar, and I wonder how I could have missed its resonance with my own childhood: the significance of family, the problems consequent on adherence to a social code, the universal effect of wonder and fear of the unknown, the necessity of art, and so on. Central to it all is Ray's vision of the subject matter and the essential participation of Ravi Shankar's music and Subrata Mitra's cinematography. And of course the extraordinary performances: Kanu Bannerjee as the feckless, deluded father, clinging to a role no longer relevant in his world; Karuna Bannerjee as the long-suffering mother; Uma Das Gupta as Durga, the fated, slightly rebellious daughter; the fascinating Chunibala Devi as the aged "Auntie"; and 8-year-old Subir Banerjee as the wide-eyed Apu. It's still not an immediately accessible film, even for sophisticated Western viewers, but it will always be an essential one, not only as a landmark in the history of movie-making but also as an eye-opening human document of the sort that these fractious times need more than ever.

Smaran Ghosal in Aparajito (Satyajit Ray, 1956)

Cast: Pinaki Sengupta, Smaran Ghosal, Kanu Bannerjee, Karuna Bannerjee, Ramani Sengupta, Charuprakash Ghosh, Subodh Ganguli. Screenplay: Satayajit Ray, Kanaili Basu, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar

As the middle film of a trilogy, Aparajito could have been merely transitional -- think for example of the middle film in The Lord of the Rings trilogy: The Two Towers (Peter Jackson, 2002), which lacks both the tension of a story forming and the release of one ending. But Ray's film stands by itself, as one of the great films about adolescence, that coming-together of a personality. The "Apu trilogy," like its source, the novels by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, is a Bildungsroman, a novel of ... well, the German Bildung can be translated as "education" or "development" or even "personal growth." In Aparajito, the boy Apu (Pinaki Sengupta) sprouts into the adolescent Apu (Smaran Ghosal), as his family moves from their Bengal village to the city of Benares (Varanasi), where Apu's father  continues to work as a priest, while his mother supplements their income as a maid and cook in their apartment house. When his father dies, Apu and his mother move to the village Mansapota, where she works for her uncle and Apu begins to train to follow his father's profession of priest. But the ever-restless Apu persuades his mother to let him attend the village school, where he excels, eventually winning a scholarship to study in Calcutta. In Pather Panchali (1955), the distant train was a symbol for Apu and his sister, Durga, of a world outside; now Apu takes a train into that world, not without the painful but necessary break with his mother. Karuna Bannerjee's portrayal of the mother's heartbreak as she releases her son into the world is unforgettable. Whereas Pather Panchali clung to a limited setting, the decaying home and village of Apu's childhood, the richness of Aparajito lies in its use of various settings: the steep stairs that Apu's father descends and ascends to practice his priestly duties on the Benares riverfront, the isolated village of Mansapota, and the crowded streets of Kolkata, all of them magnificently captured by Subrata Mitra's cinematogaphy.

Soumitra Chatterjee in The World of Apu (Satyajit Ray, 1959)

Cast: Soumitra Chatterjee, Sharmila Tagore, Swapan Mukherjee, Alok Chakravarty, Dhiresh Majumdar, Dhiren Ghosh. Screenplay: Satyajit Ray, based on a novel by Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay. Cinematography: Subrata Mitra. Production design: Bansi Chandragupta. Film editing: Dulal Dutta. Music: Ravi Shankar.

The exquisite conclusion to Ray's trilogy takes Apu (Soumitra Chatterjee) into manhood. He leaves school, unable to afford to continue into university, and begins to support himself by tutoring while trying to write a novel. When his friend Pulu (Swapan Mukherjee) persuades him to go along to the wedding of his cousin, Aparna (Sharmila Tagore), Apu finds himself marrying her: The intended bridegroom turns out to be insane, and when her father and the other villagers insist that the astrological signs indicate that Aparna must marry someone, Apu, the only available male, is persuaded, even though he regards the whole situation as nonsensical superstition, to take on the role of bridegroom. (It's a tribute to both the director and the actors that this plot turn makes complete sense in the context of the film.) After a wonderfully awkward scene in which Apu and Aparna meet for the first time, and another in which Aparna, who has been raised in comparative luxury, comes to terms with the reality of Apu's one-room apartment, the two fall deeply in love. But having returned to her family home for a visit, Aparna dies in childbirth. Apu refuses to see his son, Kajal (Alok Chakravarty), blaming him for Aparna's death and leaving him in the care of the boy's grandfather. He spends the next five years wandering, working for a while in a coal mine, until Pulu finds him and persuades him to see the child. As with Pather Panchali and Aparajito, The World of Apu (aka Apur Sansar) stands alone, its story complete in itself. But it also works beautifully as part of a trilogy. Apu's story often echoes that of his own father, whose desire to become a writer sometimes set him at odds with his family. When, in Pather Panchali, Apu's father returns from a long absence to find his daughter dead and his ancestral home in ruins, he burns the manuscripts of the plays he had tried to write. Apu, during his wanderings after Aparna's death, flings the manuscript of the novel he had been writing to the winds. And just as the railroad train figures as a symbol of the wider world in Pather Panchali, and as the means to escape into it in Aparajito, it plays a role in The World of Apu. Instead of being a remote entity, it's present in Apu's own back yard: His Calcutta apartment looks out onto the railyards of the city. Adjusting to life with Apu, Aparna at one point has to cover her ears at the whistle of a train. Apu's last sight of her is as she boards a train to visit her family. And when he reunites with his son, he tries to play with the boy and a model train engine. The glory of this film is that it has a "happy ending" that is, unlike most of them, completely earned and doesn't fall into false sentiment. I don't use the world "masterpiece" lightly, but The World of Apu, both alone and with its companion films, seems to me to merit it.  

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 09x08 Rock and a Hard Place

“Wouldn’t you get sick of eating all the food from the diner? Oh, she’s giving it to the guy I guess” “Don’t let the battery go before you need it” “Don’t stick your head out because he’s going to drop that on top of you” “right in the fkn sewer” “in one hole and out the other. Just like your cereal” “All food waster and liquids must be placed in sealed units for disposal. Prevent contamination: all utensils and kitchen surfaces to be sterilized after use” “Why is that sign in their lair if it’s supposed to be manned by like 5 people or something? Is this like their home, I feel like I don’t have enough signage in my home” We can get signage if you want

Laughter

“How is that warm? Is it one of those plug in kind?” “Is that morgue shit? What’s going on with that wall? Or is this an industrial kitchen thing” “to be fair, the one thing Sam does really well as an actor, because I can’t look that tired without actually not being tired, but what I mean is how they practice that? It’s hard to get the eyes right. The eyelid thing is almost involuntary” “that was quick” “He’s like hell yeah I gotta take lessons. Figure out how to lift an SUV” “whack a doo” “he’s super woke alright” “it’s very white” “APU also stands for Ass Protection Unit” laughter “what the fuck” laughter “that stupid face. Makes me smile every time” “Oh yes let’s light the room with our fkn zapper-ator instead of Saving that for hurting something” “going to kill those batteries awful fast” “what a fkn bitch. Seriously? Goddamn” “We’d love to hear that Tammy. Just not now” laughter

“How many times is he not going to use the word awesome?” “Is he trying to corrupt everyone at the same time?” laughter

Loud laughter “fkn awesome” “first fkn purity class or whatever the hell” “really?” laughter

“So fkn funny” “Why and who is she?” laughter

“Is that the first time they used ‘it’s a thing’ in the show? I think it might be” “oh Jesus” “that bra is way too small” “she needs to get fitted” “gong to get blue balls all night man” laughter

Laughter

Loud laughter

“Is this when Dean shows up?” “this is working out really well for them” “that was a very low budget effect. Holy shit” “ya fucked up but now you can drink your own blood” “hey fresh meat” “that makes sense” laughter

“I am the cops” laughter

“Fuck the police except Jody. I don’t think even Jody likes the police. They just needed it for the storyline” “Don’t get your ass murdered now” “well shit” “It’s always the creepy religious ones” “oh yes let me dig through this box of tools no problem” laughter “they fkn did the thing. Let’s go home.” “Not much Dean” “just safety pin sam” “plaid” “that is some of the worst wallpaper I’ve ever seen” “woe is me” “now you’ve got fkn angel spies on everything you’re doing. Fkn weird man”