#tretie

[cutesycadaver]

Ghosts Doodles

I'm not a huge fan of sharing my OCs but here goes nothing (depicted with far less bracelets than he should have)

Transcript (Rape/Murder mentioned):

Magdylan "Dylan" (He/They) 27, died in 2013

Trans Male + Gay

"Scene Queen"

Used to live in Queens

Used to live a life of serial clubbing and uses music as an escape. Music is also Dylan's way of bonding with the other ghosts and Sam

Has the powers to share his kandi bracelets with the other ghosts using the PLUR handshake

First friend was Trevor because of their shared love of partying. He received the first of their bracelets

Later bonded very closely with Nigel <3

Kind of a shithead (affectionate)

Had been addicted to caffeine, specifically monster energies in life

Very, almost eyestrainingly, colorful mostly neon greens and pinks

Cakey Guyliner

Knee high converse

For the last few years of his life his worked as a prostitute. He usually solicited stockbrokers because he desperately needed money. He had refused to have sex with David Woodstone. This leads Woodstone to lace Dylan's drink with rohypnol and takes him to the mansion to rape him. After realizing it would be really easy to find him if he dropped him off somewhere David broke the sex worker's neck with the aid of his jewelry. He dumps his body on the private property (just as he did with Trevor).

Dylan cannot remove his necklace or his head will sit at an unnatural angle, also revealing severe bruising.

[ap0llux]

Falls into a pit, wood falls on me, probably dies and becomes a ghost.

Hi Ghost CBS fans it's become apparent to be that I'm not fucking insane and other people see the fact that Trevor Lefkowitz could and should kiss Pete Martino at least once.

Well.

Boy do I have the fic for you???

This may become my little. Place to update for the rest of the series and the other ghosts oneshots so 🙁

[ko0olaidman]

reboog for sample size :3

[baemy624]

I can’t thread these videos lol whoops

[fairytalemovies]

[queenklu]

Seeing AI discourse about writing college papers reminded me of the time I got Called In To A Professor's Office over a paper I wrote that he thought was plagiarized.

See, the thing I had realized about myself by that point was that I am...VERY BAD....at reading the assigned books. I have every intention of doing so while in class, but the instant I'm out of class the book no longer exists (what adhd). So by the end of the year I would always wind up getting screwed over in the book buy-back with books I'd literally never cracked the spine on, because it turned out speed-reading sparknotes could get me through class discussion and I'd developed a System(TM) for panic-writing an essay the night before.

This system was: find an online pdf of the book. Skim. Read summaries. Pull quotes from pdf. Bullshit. Estimate the page number for any citations because no one actually checks those, and use the publication data from the syllabus for the works cited. This works Very Well if you are, like me, a sarcastic asshole who knows teachers want to read an entertaining essay instead of yet another regurgitation of whatever sounds academically "best."

So here's this history class, which actually turns out to be an english class in disguise, and we are told to read and write an essay on The First Autobiography Ever Written in the English Language, which just so happens to be about a lady who had FOURTEEN kids, suffered a psychotic break, and spent the rest of her life campaigning to become a saint.

It's called The Book of Margery Kempe. I cannot express to you how smug I am to find a pdf of the exact same copy we'd been told to buy, down to the same publishing house and year of publication. I won't even have to bullshit page numbers.

...It's written in Middle English.

Here begynnyth a schort tretys and a comfortabyl for synful wrecchys, wherin thei may have gret solas and comfort to hem and undyrstondyn the hy and unspecabyl mercy of ower sovereyn Savyowr Cryst Jhesu, whos name be worschepd and magnyfyed wythowten ende, that now in ower days to us unworthy deyneth to exercysen hys nobeley and hys goodnesse....

This is fine, College!me thinks. A little tedious, but clearly the entire class has successfully done the reading enough to talk about it, so it must be doable. They probably had discussions about the language and I forgot to pay attention.

So I write the essay, pulling quotes from this middle english pdf that I can only half read, but that I can certainly form opinions about. Is it my best essay? No. Is it snarky? Yes. Is it in MLA format? That's mostly what they'll be checking for.

Then the Professor pulls me aside after class and asks to speak with me in his office. I have another class that I have to go to, and because I'm commuting in to college I won't be back on campus until two days later; he says that's fine, and all of this is settled and we've parted ways before it hits me how fucking fucked I am.

It must be the book.

He's going to call me out on not buying the book.

Can he tell I didn't read the book?

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

And I have two days to stew in it.

By the time our meeting rolls around I am a Mess. He is going to fail me. I am going to die. If I open my mouth at all I will burst into tears. Perhaps there is the slimmest chance if I act Normal this will be fine??????

P: So I read your essay...

Me: *using my Normal face* ⊙.☉

P: ...and I'm just wondering...

Me: ⊙.☉'

P: ...where you got the quotes?

Me: ⊙.☉'''

P: .....because the version of the book we read....isn't in Middle English.

Me: ⊙.☉??????????

P: I actually thought you might have plagiarized it--

Me: ⊙.☉!!!!!!!

P:--but to be honest it's written so entirely in your style that it's impossible this essay is plagiarized.

Me: ........⊙.☉.....

P: .... Anyway.

P: Just wanted to chat.

P: Uh. You're free to go.

Me:

HERE'S THE LESSONS LEARNED:

Just buy the book Cite the pdf. The professors Do Not Care how you've read the book as long as they can plausibly believe you've read it.

Just read the book Listen. I wasn't going to get anywhere near an ADHD diagnosis until my 30s. And if they can't tell you didn't read the book, then is it really the same as not reading the book? I think Margery would agree you gotta make some shit up to get anywhere in life.

Being a sarcastic asshole in my academic papers saved me from a plagiarism charge.

[pwlanier]

Munchalov A.P. Where gold is melted. 1963

Black paper, gouache. 37 x 32 cm

Munchalov Afanasy Petrovich (1935-2014) - Soviet graphic artist.

A bright representative of the Yakut school of graphics, which in the 1960s-1970s was one of the significant phenomena of Soviet fine arts. People's Artist of the RSFSR (1982). Honorary Corresponding Member of the Russian Academy of Arts (2012).

In 1957 he graduated from the Yakut Art School. In 1957-1963 he studied at the Graphic Faculty of the Moscow State Chemical Institute named after Surikov (workshop of E. Kibrika).

Author of a series of linocuts and lithographs "The Sun Shines for Everyone", "My North", "My Yakutia", "Thums about Time", "Victory and Peace", which have become widely known not only in the USSR, but also abroad.

Participant of exhibitions in 26 countries of the world.

The works are in the National Art Museum of the Republic of Sakha (Yakutia), State Trety-G, State Museum, State Museum of Fine Arts named after Pushkin, the State Museum of the East, in the Dresden Art Gallery.

Interesting fact:

In 2003, an art gallery named after Churapcha was opened in the Yakut village of Churapcha. A.P. Munchalova.

Painting Store

[cosmicanger]

Giuliana Rosso, Dream House, 2023, Installation view from Bored Bones, curated by Treti Galaxie, 2023, Courtesy of the artist and The Address, Photo: Flavio Pescatori

[werewolf-transgenderism]

Thus alle this thyngys turnyng up so down, this creatur whych many yerys had gon wyl and evyr ben unstable was parfythly drawen and steryd to entren the wey of hy perfeccyon, whech parfyth wey Cryst ower Savyowr in hys propyr persoone examplyd. Sadly he trad it and dewly he went it beforn. Than this creatur, of whom thys tretys thorw the mercy of Jhesu schal schewen in party the levyng, towched be the hand of owyr Lord wyth grett bodyly sekenesse, wher thorw sche lost reson and her wyttes a long tym tyl ower Lord be grace restoryd her ageyn, as it schal mor openly be schewed aftyrward.

Hir wepyng was so plentyuows and so contwnyng that mech pepul wend that sche mygth wepyn and levyn whan sche wold, and therfor many men seyd sche was a fals ypocryte and wept for the world for socowr and for wordly good.

I love her. she would do numbers on here (weepy, calls herself a creature, unapologetically weird and bizarre, disabled)

[warsavant]

                    tapered fingers skimmed over the questis’ screen, vast paragraphs of information scrolling past at a steady rate.   contrary to his typically exact posture, the student’s back curved over the table’s edge, crimson gaze scanning the tretis laid upon the surface as cheek rested upon a fist.   as casual a posture as cadet mitth’raw’nuru could ever be discovered in, utterly absorbed as he was, seemingly ignorant of the space about him.

                    including the woman across the table.

                    hardly.   while his attention appeared adhered to his studies, when time permitted, he observed, flickering from the shift in her expressions to the silent slip of other cadets and professors past their tables, the movement of silent lips but spoke too low to be heard by any both those beside them.   it was an eccentricity of the pale, soft wood chosen for the furniture and storage of the library, permitting quiet speech to be audible within a short distance only to be dampened completely once a wave met an object.   it was yet another distinction between the academies upon rentor and naporar, the latter’s funding providing many an element to consider.

                    scrolling paused as his eyes lit upon a particular line, creases forming betwixt brows.     ❝  cadet irizi’ar’alani,  ❞   soft tones emphasizing her family name, gaze still lowered to the questis,   ❝  this text mentions a family tradition in a rather peculiar context, one i am not certain is properly cited.   if you have a moment, could you clarify?  ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— @muutos ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

[bobodupla]

Blog štart

Blogovanie bolo kedysi strašne populárne. Začínal som na blogoch na SMEčku, asi ako skoro každý na Slovensku. Potom som si založil vlastnú stránku a blogoval tam. Potom prišiel Facebook a podobné zverstvá a ľudia prestali blogovať a čítať blogy.

Nastal čas vrátiť sa späť k tomuto prehistorickému koníčku. Facebook je už dávno len stránka pre konšpirátorov a mamičkovské skupiny. Twitter je PR tool a miesto na prezentovanie názorov, o ktoré nikto nestojí. Pinterest je odpad zabalený do pozlátka. A z Redditu sa momentálne tiež stáva korporátne smetisko, kde sa na užívateľov už dávno vykašľali.

Blogovanie nie je primárne o tom, aby sme svoje sračkoidné myšlienkové pochody servírovali čo najviac ľuďom za čo najkratší čas. Na to máme hore spomenutý Facebook. Blogovanie je v podstate osobný zápisník, v ktorom sa autor (ja) chce podeliť o niečo, o čom si myslí, že je hodné dlhšieho textu. Ale zároveň neočakáva, že to si to prečíta polovica krajiny. Autor bude rád, ak si to prečíta jeden človek.

Dlho som rozmýšľal kde blogovať. Ušetrím vás mojich zdĺhavých myšlienkových pochodov a rozhodol som sa pre Tumblr. Po prvé tu už zverejňujem svoje amatérske fotky, takže to tu poznám. Po druhé je to celkom dobrý nástroj a po tretie je tu celkom pekná komunita. Tumblr je mix všetkého a rovnako pristupuje aj k tvorbe. Editor mi umožňuje používať ho ako mikro blog, fotoblog, normálny blog, ako diskusiu atď.

Od vtedy čo Tumblr kúpil Automattic, keď to s ním išlo dolu vodou, sa pozdvihol a je vidno, že ľudia na tom makajú. Bolo by to čudné, keby nie, veď Automattic stojí za Wordpressom. Ten som si nevybral preto, lebo nájsť nejakú tému pre Wordpress, ktorá nie je absolútny overkill s hrozným, prečačkaným dizajnom je úloha na ktorú ja nemám nervy.

Môj plán je taký, že sem budem prispievať pravidelne. Čo to bude úplne neviem. Asi nejaké postrehy, niečo o metale, možno o jedle. Možno o tom, na čo som prišiel v sprche.

Každopádne to bude blog ako kedysi. Plný žvástov. Ale mojich.

[cutesycadaver]

Tretie "Blingees"

[sylwanin-was-right]

Ooh spicy question (inspired from discussions in the Avatar Discord):

Do you think there will be Na'vi clans that ally with the RDA? If so, what do you think their motivations will be? If not, will there possibly be another need for Na'vi solidarity for a Na'vi vs. human war?

I've seen many say there isnt a reason any Na'vi would ally with the RDA since they are so destructive. Though some say there could be some clans that align w RDA interests similarly to how real life Indigenous ppl (whom the Na'vi ate strongly coded for) allied w settler colonizers in various wars, battles, and treaties for various reasons, including having enemies of other clans, or appealing to the tech advancements of the colonizers.

AWOW could have a lot of suprises with the introduction of new clans, and the sequels may definitely explore this concept. I personally would be interested in Na'vi/RDA allegiences to depict the complexity of the affects of settler colonialism on Indigenous lives, like the erosion of nation territory from betrayal of treties to make the message against colonialism clear. It would also make for interesting, complex characters and dynamics between clans that let us explore more cultures, biomes, and ways of resolving conflict.

[hane-moj]

Hi baby sjena ni lately

Shkun dy muj su pamë erdh edhe I treti

Senet po ndrrojnë tu u munu mu kon I njejti

Faji osht I jemi amo jo bash I kejti,

[baemy624]

https://twitter.com/multicoloryang/status/1561574259494948864?s=21&t=dXW7CZRHD-MWtWuOEgtCYg

Screw it: here’s a tretie & trinkus video

Enjoy these mlm icons 💗💜💙

^it’s not sensitive, it’s just bisexual

[fairytalemovies]