#i was writing an essay on this but aaahhhh

[good-beans]

I don't wanna write my essay I want to just sit and listen to LOLUET sing the Loveit songs on loop all day 🍴🐈‍⬛️

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

The Waters of Mars Rewatch

I've already ranted about this to @witchofthemidlands but just need to write down my thoughts after rewatching The Waters of Mars yesterday

When you write this episode, Rose, The Parting of the Ways/Bad Wolf, Army of Ghosts/Doomsday, Smith and Jones, Partners in Crime, Midnight, the entire S4 ending, THE END OF TIME you can have as many Slitheen fart jokes as you'd like Mr. RTD *bravo*

Also, I'm losing my mind as to why Ten went to Mars specifically, could it have been b/c Jackie and Donna always said he was from Mars?? And he really was making an effort to leave initially and not affect history...it's fascinating to see his final response as more and more people die compared to, for example, Voyage of the Damned. He's really at a point in his life where he's been broken down enough that he loses it completely

This SHOULD have been a two-parter episode there is so much to explore with the Mars crew and I even see parallels between them and the crew from the Impossible Planet two-parter it would have been wild to see the end of this episode paralleled with that storyline. Roman is like Toby, Yuri and Mia maybe like Danny, Ed definitely like Jefferson, Scheffi is like Scooti?, Adelaide like Zach etc. idk but I see a lot of parallels

My absolute favorite tiny detail is Ten expressing dislike for the robot but as soon as Roman talks about robot dogs he goes "actually hold up a moment" lol he will be loyal to K9

Adelaide is a badass I love her so much and I find the contrast between her and Lady Christina just one episode prior to be fascinating, I think Adelaide is exactly the type of person that Ten needed in his life at that exact moment

The Doctor speaking Martian...it's crazy how easily it could have turned into a Midnight 2.0 situation for him, I think Adelaide is the difference here she exudes so much authority

The fact that they took the time to focus the camera on Mia and Yuri holding hands, like 1 second only, but I go insane for that recurring theme in RTD's era especially considering how much that relates to timepetals and how distraught Ten is after losing Rose again and Donna

Speaking of Donna I love the Pompeii reference I could write essays about that as well as the mention of the Journey's End storyline with Adelaide as a child, RTD isn't hitting you over the head with it but you can definitely see all these links between what Ten lost in that episode and the Pompeii situation and his mental state in this episode aaahhhh what a masterpiece!!!

DT's acting in the final scene gives me CHILLS, he literally feels like an entirely different character as soon as he steps off the TARDIS, I feel the hairs on my body stand with the look in his eye. I am not a huge fan of Joan in the Human Nature two-parter but I think that was an interesting set of episodes and I also think it works solely b/c DT can very convincingly make you feel that John Smith is different from the Doctor even though there are some remnants there, same here in this episode. It's the Doctor but there's something there that is very un-Doctor.

[catboygretzky]

any Thoughts on logan stankoven cropping up in your olen zellweger journey? signed, a stars fan starved for some stanks love on tumblr dot com

ohhh my GOD my love for logan stankoven knows no bounds like that is my CAPTAIN my BEST FRIEND please you must all be aware he is NOT part of my olen zellweger journey he is his own journey !!!!!!

speaking of journey:

look at him! look at him!

most of you may know him from this image, yes?

but! there is more! so much more! so once again, i'm about to write an essay with video links that few people will actually read but that hardly matters. stars fans ya gotta check this man out and i would 100/10 recommend everyone in general to check this man out.

stars fans have nooo idea how lucky they are to have him. he is genuinely such a steal, and not enough people respect that. he's gonna be this season's alex debrincat (ie "every team passed on him because of his size and now regret it")

he had a 35 game point streak this season (tied this season only with connor bedard's 35 point streak)(connor bedard who has stated multiple times he looks up to stanks which is funny bc. ya know. stanks is very small.) and his hands and shot and skating are SICK. just. look at some of his highlights here, here, and here.

he's a beast. they call him the pitbull for a reason okay.

not only is he 5'8" (officially) so automatically beloved to me, he's such a great type of player to have on your team. he's relentless and such a hard worker. in my (correct) opinion the hardest working player on the blazers, and also one of the hardest workers in the entire whl.

(click here if you don't believe me)

when your captain is your hardest worker? when he never gives up and is always there to be the support system your team needs? KEY to success.

he's an absolute force to be reckoned with and is always 100% dialed in, and his forecheck? his "never give up" attitude? oh captain my CAPTAIN.

on and off the ice, he's dialed in, he's intelligent, he's humble, he's my best friend. oh also this article made me go!!! ahhh!!!!

when asked, multiple whl players have said he's the hardest player to play against in the entire western so. i do nothing if not back up my words so there's also that. fun fact, he won CHL player of the year last year!

he also was a top-3 player on the last 2 winning canadian wjc teams so there's also that and, in fact, assisted on kent johnson's GWG in 2022. just for idk fun.

also he's !! aaahhhh

look at that smile!!!

:D ahhhhh!!!!!!!!

[clonehub]

Episode 12 of the bad batch

One day. One day I'll write video essay on this series and it'll just be me struggling not to say "mediocre" and "grand waste of animation" over and over

Oh her name is eleni

Given everything rampart is a solid antagonist. Altho I guess it's because the Kaminoans (Nala se) are being rehabilitated? Almost. And rampart just got that Cunning Patient Energy that characters in his position tend to have.

I'm not sure his undercut goes low enough lol

Oh I've always loved chopper

I love when they get like normie ass voices for side characters theyre a breath of fresh air in this show

Why do they have the gonk droid? Is he just like a pet?

Also lmao @ "he's a defective unit" I see this was meant to be like a "we collect defects this is the misfit club" Emotional Line. Too bad it didn't work because they went out of their way in the first like 3 episodes to make sure we don't understand them as defective. At all. In fact that they're multiply enhanced and better than everyone on purpose.

GIRL NO YOIRE NOT?????? YOURE NKT DEFECTIVE AAAHHHH--

Tech pls. "Children often overreact" bc......you have so much experience w children lol

Also how does "the empire took my parents" sound like an overreaction

Yeah this is what Omegas arcs tend to be--convincing tbb to help other people. I can see how this would be written as a Good Conflict to consistently have, as one could argue tbbs lack of concern for other folks and their unwillingness to help others stems from them originally doing that with regs all the damn time so no they're self centered as a default. Like I can see how that could be a potential understanding here but unforch the execution of it :/

Assassination attempt? I thought he was dead

The rare presentation of hunters special senses

I wonder how they divide the sectors

They. Always have Hunter at the worst angles for his close ups he's always got his head bent but eyes upward like he's looking at something while Posing idk

Hunter has a point and omega has a point wow. The most like. Moral ambiguity we get in this series so far

Meilooruns!

Now crosshair is gonna feel the need to prove himself since it's been implied that howzer (a reg) might replace him for this job and be proven to be better than him. If the series could lean in more to Crosshairs insecurity issues (at least they look like that to me) it would be massively improved

Brother? Him? Yeah Hera yeah....

But this is literally the first time Omega calls them her brothers.

Nice use of a pause I think

This is some of the most emotional VAing I've heard from this man in literal years.

I like that Echo and Tech are taking her seriously

I think Hunters face model is just weird

I wish they'd do a wider variety of body types for bg characters

The way chopper moves is so fnsndnaksnaka

Pls he's so violent

How is Echo climbing??

Omega needs kids her age to be conniving friends w I feel like she should get into trouble

I just have to tune out techs British accent

Not him closing the curtain fansbaknsajaj

"I should have stopped this sooner" is kinda crazy because he's one guy like

Look at crosshair underestimating his enemy 😊

Chips having a wear off is an interesting mechanic. As dehumanizing as this show can be to the regs the ability for them to get their humanity back is nice

I think Hera might just be tall for her age

Crosshair having a whole face journey and I am not deciphering a single part of it. Seemed like conviction and hesitation in equal measure

[violetcancerian]

1 and 6, please?

Thank you so much for the ask @megannabell !!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

Mostly Arial (default of Google Docs) and at a size 11, but sometimes I like to make it Times New Roman, but usually that's for essay writings AHAHAHA

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

AAAHHHH this may sound so silly but my biggest fear is that people won't like my writing or my art (since sometimes I draw out scenes of my stories). I'm gonna be posting a writing snippet to celebrate 900 followers but still I'm just *panic* mostly because of the little voice of doubt

[pitlovers]

i am completely obsessed with how Jinx uses her trauma to her advantage when she’s fighting <3

[rragnaroks]

ok, the whole season 4 of sherlock is questionable at best and the eurus stuff i'd describe much less charitably, but this season does have its moments

i cry like a baby when sherlock and eurus play together. like a fucking baby. and the rest of the holmeses watch. and the restoration of the flat is going on, and we see sherlock and john interacting with little rosie, and it's all so fucking emotional. the music is EFFERVESCENT

[genuinelydecimated]

If you unironically slander the Gentle Criminal and the Cheese arc, then you don't deserve the One for All VS All for One, and Deku VS Kacchan 2 arcs (or the upcoming arcs yet to be animated bc ik yall will love to see it)

I said what I said. If you genuinely disliked them for a bad reason, e.g. 'it added nothing to the story, literally why were they there,' then you're the weakest link

/I said so many things in the tags ugh

[shyrahsw]

me: hey i should update/change my pages on here

me: it’s almost my bday so i’ll change it then

also me: or you could, you know, work on those long papers you have due This Week

me: also, what should i change my description header thing to say?

[nymphinia]

I really kinda hate working so much cause I feel like anytime I have free time I just don't want to do anything I feel too drained, I want to push myself to finish up my replay of persona 2 (honestly I was going to do a completionist IS run but... it takes too damn long and im not having that good of a time LOL) because I really want to write and make a video essay on the duology, on its story and the characters, and also a review of thoughts and opinions as its my favorite game, like, ever ;___; Aaahhhh I wish I had more free time and motivation

[theda-rison]

Camp Nano July 2020 - Results, Discussion, and Conclusion

the Like, wow, Scoob! 

Camp Nano July 2020 is done, and here are some thoughts:

I always knew that writing a comic script was going to be a learning experience - I’ve never written a comic script so it really couldn’t be anything except for a learning experience - but hoooooo boy, was it ever!

Before starting I couldn’t find anything on how long comic scripts normally are; I don’t know why, that just seems information that isn’t really shared? (If anyone knows of a resource, please send it to me!) I’m guessing it has a lot to do with there just being less comic writers than there are say, book writers and movie writers. That’s probably what happens when your interests are niche in some way, it’s just harder to find anything about them.

FORTUNATELY, I have the fancy library-bound volumes of The Sandman, and there’s excerpts of the scripts in the back. Which like… thank you @neil-gaiman​, or whoever made that decision, because being able to look at an actual script and see how it’s formatted and what’s included has been the biggest help. Even the “How to Write a Comic Script!” videos I found on YouTube didn’t have example scripts which... I don’t know, I don’t get it. Please include examples, comic YouTubers. I am confusion.

Now is the time for a sexy graph, because we are the kind of people who keep Excel spreadsheets of word counts and make graphs for fun.

Anyway, let’s look at…

[Good. I was listening to As The World Falls Down by David Bowie over and over, and now this is stuck in my head again. I don’t know why I do these things to myself. Also, I love Peter Tork’s face during some of the “AAAHHHH”s lol]

I can’t remember if I stated this before or during Camp at any point, but my goal was 60k words. I dislike aspiring for un-round numbers like “1667″ every day. Any number I could possibly pick is arbitrary, but for some reason the classic Nanowrimo number of 1667 seems even more arbitrary. “2000″ is a much better number. And, I can generally write 2000 words in two hours before running out of steam, so it works out well. It also divides better.

Having said that, you might be thinking, “Theda, the end Actual number on your graph is a lot closer to 90k than it is 60k,” and you would be right, good eyes. Were I Brandon Sanderson and you were one of my students, I would toss you a gummi bear. As it is, you’re not my student and I have no gummi bears and I’m not even Brandon Sanderson… so life is just upsetting I guess.

[But I am back to listening to As The World Falls Down, so I suppose it all works out.]

Back to the graph: The Actual. Look at this wavy-fucking-scalloped-fucking progression. Look at it. I can’t tell if it makes me happy or angry or what, but I know it gives me some kind of feeling. I think I like it from a purely aesthetic point of view, but from the point of the view of the person who made it, it annoys me.

I had a couple of days where I - in my infinite stupidity - didn’t really elaborate on what was supposed to happen in some of the scenes in my scene list and so I spent my “Writing!” time (as it’s labeled in my planner) not writing, but looking at the page cursing myself for not having written any directions for me, a directionless person.

You may also notice that the Goal bars suddenly jump up on the 24th day,. That’s because - in my infinite wisdom - I redid my goals after reaching 60k. It just makes more sense to me to be like, “Well, I punched that goal in the face. Let’s try and go WAY overboard,” because I have the Too Much gene and as Henry Rollins says: “Don't do anything by half. If you love someone, love them with all your soul. When you go to work, work your ass off. When you hate someone, hate them until it hurts.” I wouldn’t say that’s a personal philosophy so much as a Thing I Am Compelled To Do Or I Will Die.

But that’s just me.

As for the trend line, I prefer it looking more steep because that’s way more gratifying, but that’s what I get for writing parts of my scene list like, “That’s okay, Future Me will take care of it!” Past Me, you are a dick and you need to stop doing these things. You are a bastard.

Now for the table! 

[I’m sorry if that’s very small.]

And this time I’m showing you the actual table I use to write down my words. Complicated? Yes. Sexy? Very yes. A little annoying? Also yes. Do we get a little worried that she works too hard and refuses to take a vacation? We do, but we also know that she does it because she loves her work, and we love and support her and bring her snacks throughout the workday to keep her going. What a great table.

First of all: Yes, my first writing block is at 4am. It’s because I have a day job and if I write from 4-6 I can use my brain right when it’s freshly slumbered instead of using it for nonsense at work all day and being unable to write and aggravated because my mental capacity is nil and I no longer know what words are. In an ideal world I would be able to write all day but, here we are.

You might notice there’s a lot of 0’s in the 4am block, especially in the fourth week, and that’s more so because - in my infinite infiniteness (infinity?) - I am secretly an ice giant (but like, smaller) and it’s summer and the northern hemisphere is Too Hot and I literally will not be able to sleep at night until about December. Until then, I am forced to understand what it’s like to be a jacket potato for half of the year so I can empathize with their starchy pain because this is, for whatever reason, Important.

It me. (Recipe)

Anyway,

My record day was 7519 on the 10th, which is just sexy and fun and cool and everything we want, and my lowest was a big fat 0 on the 16th.

I felt super motivated for reasons I don’t remember on the 10th. This is because I didn’t have my planner yet and was not keeping notes anywhere else at that time. (It’s an undated Daily Passion Planner, in case you’re also a slut for planners and wish to know ;) ). I think I was trying to do a 10k day just for funzies? Which, technically, at 2k words in 2 hours I should be able to do 10k in 5, but cell phones exist (and are too distracting), and until I shed my corporeal form I still have to do things like “make food and eat it,” and “get up to pee,” and “experience all the vagaries and horrors of human existence.” I’m hoping it clears up soon. 

The 16th was the day that Future Me took Past Me by the hand and said, “My good bitch, you need to stop doing that thing where you leave shit for me because you run out of motivation or executive function or whatever the fuck is happening where you decide you don’t want to do something anymore, seemingly at random. You deciding to leave school before the day even started because you were bored may have been cute when you were a kid - and also annoying for everyone around you, and just alarming that time they had to pry your hands off the door molding as you held on to it and screamed - but as an adult you are both the cause of and the person who has to deal with this bullshit, and you need to stop.”

On the 16th I went to the Shrine of the Self (sorry, I’ve been reading a lot of manga lately) and made an offering for forgiveness, and then hunkered down and added a TON of notes and partially written scenes to my scene list. You can see how much that helped; it’s almost like having direction is actually useful, lol.

BUT, despite all that direction and despite punching my goal in the face, breaking it’s glasses, and taking it’s lunch money, the script is not finished!

Here’s some math as of the 23rd:

There are 124 points in my outline On the 23rd, I had completed 44 of those points, at 363 pages or 59,601 words 124 / 44 = 2.81 Now we check: 44 * 2.81 = 123.6 (close enough) So as of the 23rd, the projection for completing the script was: 363 * 2.81 = 1,020 pages 59,601 * 2.81 = 157,479 words

Now, I don’t know what the fuck that means because I don’t really do numbers, but at the time of the 23rd it looked an awful lot like I wasn’t going to finish this Camp project. And uh… hey, that was correct.

So I’m going to be continuing Camp Nano July 2020, but also in August 2020, over about 20 more days (providing I hit my goal every day.)

So:

IF -> I need to get up to 158,000; 158,000 - 86,000 = 72,000 words need to be written. (I'm rounding the total up because I canNOT imagine this script being somehow smaller than that at this point, and I’m rounding my Camp total down because who cares about 72 words?) I divided 72,000 from a few numbers until I got a word goal I was okay with, that I think I can do, here’s that one: 72,000 / 20 days = 3,600 words a day (This would mean I can either do 2k in the morning and then 1600 later, or the reverse. You know, whatever way I feel spicy that day.) THEN -> I need to write 3,600 words a day for 20 days to (hopefully) finish this script before work picks up at the end of August.

And then I’ll chill from the end of August - October (except for maybe some short stories or essays. I have a lot of Thoughts and they need to be purged from my brain for my own good). And then I’ll use Nanowrimo Classic (November) to edit this fucker.

SO… that’s some stuff.

As I said at the beginning this endeavor was only ever going to be a learning experience. Having to write 158k words total doesn’t scare me, the longest thing I’ve written yet was something like 190k words. Trying to finish it before the end of August is the daunting part. Especially since being able to be creative right now just keeps making my brain puke out more ideas, and then there’s too many ideas and I’m just writing them all down and hopefully I can get to them later.

Anyway, good job on Camp Nano July 2020 everyone! We did it!

And if you didn’t do it: don’t worry, you’ll do it next time :D

[scouts-mockingbird]

So I've finally gotten a chance to read Someone Else's War, and honestly I'm hooked, it's sO gooooodDD!!

AAAHHHH THANK YOU! I’m so glad you like it! If I didn’t have so many essays to write you guys would have another chapter by now, but be looking for that in the next week or so. Thank you so much for reading it, I really like working on it and positive feedback is always so nice :D

[twinklemassu]

GTK (Get to Know) Tag!

I was tagged by @curledlife I’m so sorry that it’s been like a month since you tagged me ;-;-;-;-; my laptop has been dead the whole time and I couldn’t get this to work on my phone. Thank you for always tagging me though~ I appreciate it they’re so fun TT

The Last

Drink: Water

Phone Call: A private lesson for swimming hehe

Text message: asking a friend for a link to todome no kiss

Song you listened to:  “Airplane” by JHope

Time you cried: 5 minutes ago lmao but having tears trickling down and sobbing was last night watching Hwayugi…when the Jade Prince died

- Have You Ever

Dated someone twice: Nope

Kissed someone and regretted it: Nope unless you mean drooling children lmao

Been cheated on: No…

Lost someone special:  Yes…TT

Been depressed: I am right now...lmao but very frequently

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope thank goodness

- 3 Favorite Color

dark vibrant red

black

darker shades of green

- In The Last Year Have You

Made new friend: Absolutely!

laughed until you cried: All the time lol I choke and suffocate too lmao

Found someone was talking about you: YES

Met someone who changed you: Yes, many. //emotionally cri//

Found out who your friends are: Yes :))

Kissed someone on your Facebook list: No??? wth is that supposed to mean lmao

- How many Facebook friends do you know: 50%?

- Do you have any pets: My precious dog child 

- Do you want to change your name: Nope I love it. 

- What did you do for your last birthday: Went swimming and got the most painful sunburn in my life omg learned that I wasn’t so resistant as I’ve thought after all TT

- What were you doing at midnight last night: Watching ep 19 of Hwayugi….

- Name something you can’t wait for: The next chance I get to dance and to finish school and just dammit all lmao I am so depressed rn I’m sorry haha

- When was the last time you saw your mom: 5 minutes ago in my room watching TV lmao

- What were you listening to right now: The TV…

- Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes. I avoid talking to my most recent Tom acquaintance as much as possible. I’m not calling the admissions office demanding them to stop avoiding me for that very reason. It’s mutual I guess :’))))

- Something that is getting on your nerves: Myself. And my slow internet connection. And the fact that it’s freezing and windy but I still need to get my butt outside to go jogging.

- Most visited websites: Instagram, snapchat, and webtoon?

- Hair color: Brown

- Long or short hair: Middlish longish…I’M TRYING TO GROW IT OUT WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG AAAHHHH

- Do you have a crush on someone: does sato takeru count because otherwise no no and no. I just thought of Bobby and Joy rn and shit no I don’t lmao 

- What do you like about yourself: The low key fact that I look unfortunately feminine and very young so people baby me but I’m not afraid to stand up for myself and get things done? Doesn’t that sound a bit egoistic….>/////

- Blood Type: I think it’s A

- Nickname: Twinkle, Skye, and Skye chick

- Relationship Status: Single

- Zodiac: Cancer

- Pronouns: She/Her

- Favorite TV show: (@curledlife omg I loved Peaky Blinders ashlfjkg) ummmm Hwayugi…Goblin…and I can’t think of anything really rn

- Tattoos: Not on me, but do I love YEAS

- Right or Left Handed: Right

- Surgery: A hernia…

- Sports: Pistol, rifle, archery, tennis,and swimming…this sounds like a drill I’ve been writing resumes & essays with that stuff ugh 

- Pair of shoes: How many? About 8? Stop reminding me that they’re so worn out I need to buy more. Where is the money omg 

- Eating: Nothing. 3 hours ago I ate greek yogurt though jsyk okie 

- Drinking: I’m drinking water now jsyk that too. But if you meant alcohol, occasionally. 

- Waiting:  For myself to get my butt outside yup. 

- Get married: Very debatable and not wanted 

- Career: ….i’ve been talking about this too much lately too stahphit. If everything went my way I’d want to be a scenario/script writer and some job at a production company…

- Which Is Better

Hugs or Kisses: I like both and I give them too much too

Lips or Eyes:  Both

Shorter or Taller: Ehhhh I’m kind of small so taller…

Older or Younger: Doesn’t matter

Nice Arms or Nice Stomach: Ow what a hard question. Stomach.

Hook Up or Relationship: …a relationship

Troublemaker or Hesitant: Troublemaker. I can’t stand hesitant. 

- Kissed a Stranger: Nope

- Drank hard liquor: Maybe

- Lost glasses/contact lenses: Almost everyday. But I always find them huzzah

- Turned someone down: No 

- Sex on the first date: No

- Broken someone’s heart: I have no idea. 

- Had your heart broken: Yeas. Let’s just cry rn. 

- Being arrested: No!

- Fallen for a friend: Nope. I’m starting to cringe at my memories. 

- Cried when someone died: Yes

- Do You Believe In

Yourself:  I guess

Miracles: Yep

Santa Claus: Nope

Kiss on the first date: why not

I tag @jump-tobikko @fayyyy @skies-in-my-eyes @adzuki-caramel  and i’m sorry if I’ve forgotten any mutuals…TT I haven’t been on here in a while

[things2mustdo]

[Editor’s Note: This is just one of thirteen essays in our newly-released collection of first-hand reports about the reality of race, Face to Face with Race.]

I recall a bad joke that explains, in crude terms, the relationship between blacks and whites in America today:

“What do you call a white man surrounded by 20 blacks?”

“Coach.”

“What do you call a white man surrounded by 1,000 blacks?”

“Warden.”

I might add another line to this joke: “What do you call a white man surrounded by 30 blacks?”

“Teacher.”

Until recently I taught at a predominantly black high school in a southeastern state. I took the job because I wasn’t knowledgeable about race at the time, and black schools aren’t picky. The school offered me a job and suddenly I was in darkest Africa. Except, I wasn’t in Africa; I was in America.

Blacks outnumbered whites about five to one at this school and there were hardly any Hispanics. Some of my classes were all-black, or nearly so, because the gifted and advanced classes siphoned off most of the white students and I taught regular classes. There were some black teachers but the majority were white.

Most of the blacks I taught were from the area. They did not tend to travel very much, and I am sure there are regional differences in the ways in which blacks speak and act. However, I suspect my experiences were generally typical, certainly for Southern blacks.

The mainstream press gives a hint of what conditions are like in black schools, but only a hint. Expressions journalists use like “chaotic” or “poor learning environment” or “lack of discipline” do not capture what really happens. There is nothing like the day-to-day experience of teaching black children and that is what I will try to convey.

Noise

Most whites simply do not know what black people are like in large numbers, and the first encounter can be a shock. One of the most immediately striking things about my students was that they were loud. They had little conception of ordinary white decorum. It was not unusual for five blacks to be screaming at me at once. Instead of calming down and waiting for a lull in the din to make their point — something that occurs to even the dimmest white students — blacks just tried to yell over each other.

It did no good to try to quiet them, and white women were particularly inept at trying. I sat in on one woman’s class as she begged the children to pipe down. They just yelled louder so their voices would carry over hers.

Many of my black students would repeat themselves over and over again — just louder. It was as if they suffered from Tourette syndrome. They seemed to have no conception of waiting for an appropriate time to say something. They would get ideas in their heads and simply had to shout them out. I might be leading a discussion on government and suddenly be interrupted: “We gotta get more Democrats! Clinton, she good!” The student may seem content with that outburst but two minutes later, he would suddenly start yelling again: “Clinton good!”

Anyone who is around young blacks will get a constant diet of rap music. Blacks often make up their own jingles, and it was not uncommon for 15 black boys to swagger into a classroom, bouncing their shoulders and jiving back and forth, rapping 15 different sets of words in the same harsh, rasping dialect. The words were almost invariably a childish form of boasting: “Who got dem shine rim, who got dem shine shoe, who got dem shine grill (gold and silver dental caps)?” The amateur rapper usually ends with a claim — in the crudest terms imaginable — that all womankind is sexually devoted to him. For whatever reason, my students would often groan instead of saying a particular word, as in, “She suck dat aaahhhh (think of a long grinding groan), she f**k dat aaaahhhh, she lick dat aaaahhh.”

Many rap lyrics are crude but some are simply incomprehensible. Not so long ago, there was a popular rap called “Tat it up.” I heard the words from hundreds of black mouths for weeks. Some of the lyrics are:

Tat tat tat it up.

ATL tat it up.

New York tat it up.

Tat tat tat it up.

Rap is one of the most degenerate things to have come out of our country, and it is tragic that it has infected whites to the extent it has.

Black women love to dance — in a way white people might call gyrating. They dance in the hall, in the classroom, on the chairs, next to the chairs, under the chairs, everywhere. Once I took a call on my cell phone and had to step outside of class. I was away about two minutes but when I got back the black girls had lined up at the front of the classroom and were convulsing to the delight of the boys.

Many black people, especially black women, are enormously fat. Some are so fat I had to arrange special seating to accommodate their bulk. I am not saying there are no fat white students — there are — but it is a matter of numbers and attitudes. Many black girls simply do not care that they are fat. There are plenty of white anorexics, but I have never met or heard of a black anorexic.

“Black women be big Mr. Jackson,” my students would explain.

“Is it okay in the black community to be a little overweight?” I ask.

Two obese black girls in front of my desk begin to dance, “You know dem boys lak juicy fruit, Mr. Jackson.” “Juicy” is a colorful black expression for the buttocks.

Blacks are the most directly critical people I have ever met: “Dat shirt stupid. Yo’ kid a bastard. Yo’ lips big.” Unlike whites, who tread gingerly around the subject of race, they can be brutally to the point. Once I needed to send a student to the office to deliver a message. I asked for volunteers, and suddenly you would think my classroom was a bastion of civic engagement. Thirty dark hands shot into the air. My students loved to leave the classroom and slack off, even if just for a few minutes, away from the eye of white authority. I picked a light-skinned boy to deliver the message. One very black student was indignant: “You pick da half-breed.” And immediately other blacks take up the cry, and half a dozen mouths are screaming, “He half-breed.”

For decades, the country has been lamenting the poor academic performance of blacks and there is much to lament. There is no question, however, that many blacks come to school with a serious handicap that is not their fault. At home they have learned a dialect that is almost a different language. Blacks not only mispronounce words; their grammar is often wrong. When a black wants to ask, “Where is the bathroom?” he may actually say “Whar da badroom be?” Grammatically, this is the equivalent of “Where the bathroom is?” And this is the way they speak in high school. Students write the way they speak, so this is the language that shows up in written assignments.

It is true that some whites face a similar handicap. They speak with what I would call a “country” accent that is hard to reproduce but results in sentences such as “I’m gonna gemme a Coke.” Some of these country whites had to learn correct pronunciation and usage. The difference is that most whites overcome this handicap and learn to speak correctly; many blacks do not.

Most of the blacks I taught simply had no interest in academic subjects. I taught history, and students would often say they didn’t want to do an assignment or they didn’t like history because it was all about white people. Of course, this was “diversity” history, in which every cowboy’s black cook got a special page on how he contributed to winning the West, but black children still found it inadequate. So I would throw up my hands and assign them a project on a real, historical black person. My favorite was Marcus Garvey. They had never heard of him, and I would tell them to research him, but they never did. They didn’t care and they didn’t want to do any work.

Anyone who teaches blacks soon learns that they have a completely different view of government from whites. Once I decided to fill 25 minutes by having students write about one thing the government should do to improve America. I gave this question to three classes totaling about 100 students, approximately 80 of whom were black. My few white students came back with generally “conservative” ideas. “We need to cut off people who don’t work,” was the most common suggestion. Nearly every black gave a variation on the theme of “We need more government services.”

My students had only the vaguest notion of who pays for government services. For them, it was like a magical piggy bank that never goes empty. One black girl was exhorting the class on the need for more social services and I kept trying to explain that people, real live people, are taxed for the money to pay for those services. “Yeah, it come from whites,” she finally said. “They stingy anyway.”

“Many black people make over $50,000 dollars a year and you would also be taking away from your own people,” I said.

She had an answer to that: “Dey half breed.” The class agreed. I let the subject drop.

Many black girls are perfectly happy to be welfare queens. On career day, one girl explained to the class that she was going to have lots of children and get fat checks from the government. No one in the class seemed to have any objection to this career choice.

Surprising attitudes can come out in class discussion. We were talking about the crimes committed in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and I brought up the rape of a young girl in the bathroom of the Superdome. A majority of my students believed this was a horrible crime but a few took it lightly. One black boy spoke up without raising his hand: “Dat no big deal. They thought they is gonna die so they figured they have some fun. Dey jus’ wanna have a fun time; you know what I’m sayin’?” A few black heads nodded in agreement.

My department head once asked all the teachers to get a response from all students to the following question: “Do you think it is okay to break the law if it will benefit you greatly?” By then, I had been teaching for a while and was not surprised by answers that left a young, liberal, white woman colleague aghast. “Yeah” was the favorite answer. As one student explained, “Get dat green.”

There is a level of conformity among blacks that whites would find hard to believe. They like one kind of music: rap. They will vote for one political party: Democrat. They dance one way, speak one way, are loud the same way, and fail their exams in the same way. Of course, there are exceptions but they are rare.

Whites are different. Some like country music, others heavy metal, some prefer pop, and still others, God forbid, enjoy rap music. They have different associations, groups, almost ideologies. There are jocks, nerds, preppies, and hunters. Blacks are all — well — black, and they are quick to let other blacks know when they deviate from the norm.

One might object that there are important group differences among blacks that a white man simply cannot detect. I have done my best to find them, but so far as I can tell, they dress the same, talk the same, think the same. Certainly, they form rival groups, but the groups are not different in any discernible way. There simply are no groups of blacks that are as distinctly different from each other as white “nerds,” “hunters,” or “Goths,” for example.

How the world looks to blacks

One point on which all blacks agree is that everything is “racis’.” This is one message of liberalism they have absorbed completely. Did you do your homework? “Na, homework racis’.” Why did you get an F on the test? “Test racis’.”

I was trying to teach a unit on British philosophers and the first thing the students noticed about Bentham, Hobbes, and Locke was “Dey all white! Where da black philosopher a’?” I tried to explain there were no blacks in eighteenth-century Britain. You can probably guess what they said to that: “Dat racis’!”

One student accused me of deliberately failing him on a test because I didn’t like black people.

“Do you think I really hate black people?”

“Yeah.”

“Have I done anything to make you feel this way? How do you know?”

“You just do.”

“Why do you say that?”

He just smirked, looked out the window, and sucked air through his teeth. Perhaps this was a regional thing, but the blacks often sucked air through their teeth as a wordless expression of disdain or hostility.

My students were sometimes unable to see the world except through the lens of their own blackness. I had a class that was host to a German exchange student. One day he put on a Power Point presentation with famous German landmarks as well as his school and family. From time to time during the presentation, blacks would scream, “Where da black folk?!” The exasperated German tried several times to explain that there were no black people where he lived in Germany. The students did not believe him. I told them Germany is in Europe, where white people are from, and Africa is where black people are from. They insisted that the German student was racist, and deliberately refused to associate with blacks.

Blacks are keenly interested in their own racial characteristics. I have learned, for example, that some blacks have “good hair.” Good hair is black parlance for black-white hybrid hair. Apparently, it is less kinky, easier to style, and considered more attractive.

Blacks are also proud of light skin. Imagine two black students shouting insults across the room. One is dark but slim; the other light and obese. The dark one begins the exchange: “You fat, Ridario!”

Ridario smiles, doesn’t deign to look at his detractor, shakes his head like a wobbling top, and says, “You wish you light skinned.”

They could go on like this, repeating the same insults over and over.

My black students had nothing but contempt for Hispanic immigrants. They would vent their feelings so crudely that our department strongly advised us never to talk about immigration in class in case the principal or some outsider might overhear.

Whites were “racis’,” of course, but they thought of us at least as Americans. Not the Mexicans. Blacks have a certain, not necessarily hostile understanding of white people. They know how whites act, and it is clear they believe whites are smart and are good at organizing things. At the same time, they probably suspect whites are just putting on an act when they talk about equality, as if it is all a sham that makes it easier for whites to control blacks. Blacks want a bigger piece of the American pie. I’m convinced that if it were up to them they would give whites a considerably smaller piece than whites get now, but they would give us something. They wouldn’t give Mexicans anything.

What about black boys and white girls? No one is supposed to notice this or talk about it but it is glaringly obvious: Black boys are obsessed with white girls. White parents would do well to keep their daughters well away from black schools. I’ve witnessed the following drama countless times. A black boy saunters up to a white girl. The cocky black dances around her, not really in a menacing way. It’s more a shuffle than a threat. As he bobs and shuffles he asks, “When you gonna go wit’ me?”

There are two kinds of reply. The more confident white girl gets annoyed, looks away from the black and shouts, “I don’t wanna go out with you!” The more demure girl will look at her feet and mumble a polite excuse but ultimately say no. There is only one response from the black boy: “You racis’.” Many girls — all too many — actually feel guilty because they do not want to date blacks. Most white girls at my school stayed away from blacks, but a few, particularly the ones who were addicted to drugs, fell in with them.

There is something else that is striking about blacks. They seem to have no sense of romance, of falling in love. What brings men and women together is sex, pure and simple, and there is a crude openness about this. There are many degenerate whites, of course, but some of my white students were capable of real devotion and tenderness, emotions that seemed absent from blacks — especially the boys.

Black schools are violent and the few whites who are too poor to escape are caught in the storm. The violence is astonishing, not so much that it happens, but the atmosphere in which it happens. Blacks can be smiling, seemingly perfectly content with what they are doing, having a good time, and then, suddenly start fighting. It’s uncanny. Not long ago, I was walking through the halls and a group of black boys were walking in front of me. All of a sudden they started fighting with another group in the hallway.

Blacks are extraordinarily quick to take offense. Once I accidentally scuffed a black boy’s white sneaker with my shoe. He immediately rubbed his body up against mine and threatened to attack me. I stepped outside the class and had a security guard escort the student to the office. It was unusual for students to threaten teachers physically this way, but among themselves, they were quick to fight for similar reasons.

The real victims are the unfortunate whites caught in this. They are always in danger and their educations suffer. White weaklings are particularly susceptible, but mostly to petty violence. They may be slapped or get a couple of kicks when they are trying to open a bottom locker. Typically, blacks save the hard, serious violence for each other.

There was a lot of promiscuous sex among my students and this led to violence. Black girls were constantly fighting over black boys. It was not uncommon to see two girls literally ripping each other’s hair out with a police officer in the middle trying to break up the fight. The black boy they were fighting over would be standing by with a smile, enjoying the show he had created. For reasons I cannot explain, boys seldom fought over girls.

Pregnancy was common among the blacks, though many black girls were so fat I could not tell the difference. I don’t know how many girls got abortions, but when they had the baby they usually stayed in school and had their own parents look after the child. The school did not offer daycare.

Aside from the police officers constantly on patrol, a sure sign that you are in a black school is the coke cage: the chain-link fence that many majority-black schools use to protect vending machines. The cage surrounds the machine and even covers its top. Delivery employees have to unlock a gate on the front of the cage to service the machines. Companies would prefer not to build cages around vending machines. They are expensive, ugly, and a bother, but black students smashed the machines so many times it was cheaper to build a cage than repair the damage. Rumor had it that before the cages went up blacks would turn the machines upside down in the hope that the money would fall out.

Security guards are everywhere in black schools — we had one on every hall. They also sat in on unruly classes and escorted students to the office. They were unarmed, but worked closely with the three city police officers who were constantly on duty.

Rural black schools have to have security too but they are usually safer. One reason is that the absolute numbers are smaller. A mostly-black school of 300 students is safer than a mostly-black school of 2,000. Also, students in rural areas — both black and white — tend to have grown up together and know each other, at least by sight.

There was a lot of drug-dealing at my school. This was a good way to make a fair amount of money but it also gave boys power over girls who wanted drugs. An addicted girl — black or white — became the plaything of anyone who could get her drugs.

One of my students was a notorious drug dealer. Everyone knew it. He was 19 years old and in eleventh grade. Once he got a score of three out of 100 on a test. He had been locked up four times since he was 13, and there he was sitting next to little, white Caroline.

One day, I asked him, “Why do you come to school?”

He wouldn’t answer. He just looked out the window, smiled, and sucked air through his teeth. His friend Yidarius ventured an explanation: “He get dat green and get dem females.”

“What is the green?” I asked. “Money or dope?”

“Both,” said Yidarius with a smile.

A very fat black interrupted from across the room: “We get dat lunch,” Mr. Jackson. “We gotta get dat lunch and brickfuss.” He means the free breakfast and lunch poor students get every day.

“Nigga, we know’d you be lovin’ brickfuss!” shouts another student.

Some readers may believe that I have drawn a cruel caricature of black students. After all, according to official figures some 85 percent of them graduate. It would be instructive to know how many of those scraped by with barely a C- record. They go from grade to grade and they finally get their diplomas because there is so much pressure on teachers to push them through. It saves money to move them along, the school looks good, and the teachers look good. Many of these children should have been failed, but the system would crack under their weight if they were all held back.

How did my experiences make me feel about blacks? Ultimately, I lost sympathy for them. In so many ways they seem to make their own beds. There they were in an integrationist’s fantasy — in the same classroom with white students, eating the same lunch, using the same bathrooms, listening to the same teachers — and yet the blacks fail while the whites pass.

One tragic outcome among whites who have been teaching for too long is that it can engender something close to hatred. One teacher I knew gave up fast food — not for health reasons but because where he lived most fast-food workers were black. He had enough of blacks on the job. This was an extreme example, but years of frustration can take their toll. Many of my white colleagues with any experience were well on their way to that state of mind.

There is an unutterable secret among teachers: Almost all realize that blacks do not respond to traditional white instruction. Does that put the lie to environmentalism? Not at all. It is what brings about endless, pointless innovation that is supposed to bring blacks up to the white level.

The solution is more diversity — or put more generally, the solution is change. Change is an almost holy word in education, and you can fail a million times as long as you keep changing. That is why liberals keep revamping the curriculum and the way it is taught. For example, teachers are told that blacks need hands-on instruction and more group work. Teachers are told that blacks are more vocal and do not learn through reading and lectures. The implication is that they have certain traits that lend themselves to a different kind of teaching.

Whites have learned a certain way for centuries but it just doesn’t work with blacks. Of course, this implies racial differences but if pressed, most liberal teachers would say different racial learning styles come from some indefinable cultural characteristic unique to blacks. Therefore, schools must change, America must change. But into what? How do you turn quantum physics into hands-on instruction or group work? No one knows, but we must keep changing until we find something that works.

Public school has certainly changed since anyone reading this was a student. I have a friend who teaches elementary school, and she tells me that every week the students get a new diversity lesson, shipped in fresh from some bureaucrat’s office in Washington or the state capital. She showed me the materials for one week: a large poster, about the size of a forty-two inch flat-screen television. It shows an utterly diverse group — I mean diverse: handicapped, Muslim, Jewish, effeminate, poor, rich, brown, slightly brown, yellow, etc. — sitting at a table, smiling gaily, accomplishing some undefined task. The poster comes with a sheet of questions the teacher is supposed to ask. One might be: “These kids sure look different, but they look happy. Can you tell me which one in the picture is an American?”

Some eight-year-old, mired in ignorance, will point to a white child like himself. “That one.”

The teacher reads from the answer, conveniently printed along with the question. “No, Billy, all these children are Americans. They are just as American as you.”

The children get a snack, and the poster goes up on the wall until another one comes a week later. This is what happens at predominately white, middle-class, elementary schools everywhere.

Elementary school teachers love All of the Colors of the Race, by award-winning children’s poet Arnold Adoff. These are some of the lines they read to the children: “Mama is chocolate . . . Daddy is vanilla . . . Me (sic) is better . . . It is a new color. It is a new flavor. For love. Sometimes blackness seems too black for me, and whiteness is too sickly pale; and I wish every one were golden. Remember: long ago before people moved and migrated, and mixed and matched . . . there was one people: one color, one race. The colors are flowing from what was before me to what will be after. All the colors.”

Teaching as a career

It may come as a surprise after what I have written, but my experiences have given me a deep appreciation for teaching as a career. It offers a stable, middle-class life but comes with the capacity to make real differences in the lives of children. In our modern, atomized world children often have very little communication with adults — especially, or even, with their parents — so there is potential for a real transaction between pupil and teacher, disciple and master.

A rewarding relationship can grow up between an exceptional, interested student and his teacher. I have stayed in my classroom with a group of students discussing ideas and playing chess until the janitor kicked us out. I was the old gentleman, imparting my history, culture, personal loves and triumphs, defeats and failures to young kinsman. Sometimes I fancied myself Tyrtaeus, the Spartan poet, who counseled the youth to honor and loyalty. I never had this kind intimacy with a black student, and I know of no other white teacher who did.

Teaching can be fun. For a certain kind of person it is exhilarating to map out battles on chalkboards, and teach heroism. It is rewarding to challenge liberal prejudices, to leave my mark on these children, but what I aimed for with my white students I could never achieve with the blacks.

There is a kind of child whose look can melt your heart: some working-class castaway, in and out of foster homes, often abused, who is nevertheless almost an angel. Your heart melts for these children, this refuse of the modern world. Many white students possess a certain innocence; their cheeks still blush.

Try as I might, I could not get the blacks to care one bit about Beethoven or Sherman’s march to the sea, or Tyrtaeus, or Oswald Spengler, or even liberals like John Rawls, or their own history. They cared about nothing I tried to teach them. When this goes on year after year it chokes the soul out of a teacher, destroys his pathos, and sends him guiltily searching for The Bell Curve on the Internet.

Blacks break down the intimacy that can be achieved in the classroom, and leave you convinced that that intimacy is really a form of kinship. Without intending to, they destroy what is most beautiful — whether it be your belief in human equality, your daughter’s innocence, or even the state of the hallway.

Just last year I read on the bathroom stall the words “F**k Whitey.” Not two feet away, on the same stall, was a small swastika. The writing on that wall somehow symbolized the futility of integration. No child should be have to try to learn in such conditions. It was not racists who created those conditions and it wasn’t poverty either; it was ignorant, white liberals. It reminds me of Nietzsche: “I call an animal, a species, an individual corrupt, when it loses its instincts, when it prefers what is injurious to it.”

One often hears from egalitarians that it doesn’t matter what color predominates in a future America so long as we preserve our values, since we are a “proposition nation.” Even if we were prepared to hand over our country to aliens who were going to “preserve our values,” it simply cannot be done with blacks.

The National Council for the Social Studies, the leading authority on social science education in the United States, urges teachers to inculcate such values as equality of opportunity, individual property rights, and a democratic form of government. Even if teachers could inculcate this milquetoast ideology into whites, liberalism is doomed because so many non-whites are not receptive to education of any kind beyond the merest basics. Many of my students were functionally illiterate. It is impossible to get them to care about such abstractions as property rights or democratic citizenship. They do not see much further than the fact that you live in a big house and “we in da pro-jek.” Of course, there are a few loutish whites who will never think past their next meal and a few sensitive blacks for whom anything is possible, but no society takes on the characteristics of its exceptions.

Once I asked my students, “What do you think of the Constitution?”

“It white,” one slouching black rang out. The class began to laugh. And I caught myself laughing along with them, laughing while Pompeii’s volcano simmers, while the barbarians swell around the Palatine, while the country I love, and the job I love, and the community I love become dimmer by the day.

I read a book by an expatriate Rhodesian who visited Zimbabwe not too many years ago. Traveling with a companion, she stopped at a store along the highway. A black man materialized next to her car window. “Job, boss, (I) work good, boss,” he pleaded. “You give job.”

“What happened to your old job?” the expatriate white asked.

The black man replied in the straightforward manner of his race: “We drove out the whites. No more jobs. You give job.”

At some level, my students understand the same thing. One day I asked the bored, black faces staring back at me. “What would happen if all the white people in America disappeared tomorrow?”

“We screwed,” a young, pitch-black boy screamed back. The rest of the blacks laughed.

I have had children tell me to my face as they struggled with an assignment. “I cain’t do dis,” Mr. Jackson. “I black.”

The point is that human beings are not always rational. It is in the black man’s interest to have whites in Zimbabwe but he drives them out and starves. Most whites do not think black Americans could ever do anything so irrational. They see blacks on television smiling, fighting evil whites, embodying white values. But the real black is not on television, and you pull your purse closer when you see him, and you lock the car doors when he swaggers by with his pants hanging down almost to his knees.

For those of you with children, better a smaller house in a white district than a fancy one near a black school. Much better an older car than your most precious jewels cast into a school where they will be a minority.

I have been in parent-teacher conferences that broke my heart: the child pleading with his parents to take him out of school; the parents convinced their child’s fears are groundless. If you love your child, show her you care — not by giving her fancy vacations or a car, but making her innocent years safe and happy. Give her the gift of a white school.

Of course, even the whitest schools are riddled with liberalism. There is only one way to educate your children in a way that does not poison their minds. If at all possible, home school your children. Educate them yourself.

Original Article

[wincore]

ahh moonie u do not need to thank me!! /i/ am so grateful that u share ur work!!!! also im glad u enjoy the feedback bc i literally want to write you a long essay every single time i read a story of yours but sometimes i get worried it’s too much or will seem ingenuine if i send it too often but i rlly am just passionate abt ur work/i strongly believe in showing love to writers!!!! i love to express my love!!

ALSO i was going to add that i love taeyong’s role in runway but then i started thinking about taeyong’s similar sweet/encouraging friend role in heaven, fallen and i remembered a previous ask where u said “i keep including taeyong as the lovable side character in my fics jdhksdj but i have SO many wips for him??? #freehim” AND I LAUGHED HAHAH CMON MOONIE #FREETAEYONG #freethesweetie

- tata 😚

omg tata trust me they never sound ingenuine or are too much like ever. they actually give me so much motivation to continue writing and sharing fics 🥺🥺 your love is the best thing that happened to me and my fics okay so i HAVE to thank you aaahhhh!!! (you cannot deny me that ❣) also you’re literally the nicest person wtf 🥺

and AHAHAH. my apologies to taeyong i have 5 incomplete wips for him 😭😭 they’re all of the rather serious sort though, not sure why 😳 (i mean there’s like 1 romcom in there though and it’s a runway spinoff shh don’t tell anyone)

[literallyalexfierro]

I’ve finished the ship of the dead today (yesterday, it’s like 7am here) and believe me, you’re going to scream

Oh my god aaahhhh why are you guys torturing me I have to write an essay and shit but I wanna read it so bad but if I do that I'll fail adv lit ughhhh