teaandtoastandthyme

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I love how in Lockwood & Co, 90% of the characters are arguably unhinged becuase of trauma. But George? Not him. That's organic, homegrown, cruelty-free unhinged behavior right there. His family is canonically alive and incredibly normal, he's just Like That.

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How to Set Fence Posts That Won’t Rot.

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Yesterday night, I asked my parents to remind me to return The Terror (2018) to the video rental store. This morning I woke up to two — momentarily confusing and concerning — text notifications:

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How to Set Fence Posts That Won’t Rot.

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beep beep sometimes when you have been in survival mode for a long time the parts of you dedicated to Wanting Things atrophy and you forget how to envision a future that feels rewarding because you are busy with the business of staying alive, and it can seem like your life must be pointless because you can’t imagine any long term goals. sometimes even when you leave survival mode you can’t remember how to Want Things. that doesn’t mean you need to give up on having a good and fulfilling life, it just means that Wanting Things is a muscle you need to gradually strengthen. the part of you that has dreams and aspirations is still there, it just fell asleep, but if you wiggle it enough it can and will regain feeling. it’s okay to start small

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You walk through one portal on a school field trip and now you're responsible for the fate of a magical kingdom. I hate it when that happens.

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Probably one of the most hilarious lines of all time

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"Christ Breaking a Rifle", by Otto Pankok, ?1955? (German, 1893-1966).

Pankok was declared a 'degenerate artist' by the Nazi party, and often depicted people marginalized by German society in his work, notably the many Roma and Sinti women who served as his models for his collection of woodcuts depicting the Passion of Christ. "Christ Breaking a Rifle" was created as part of the German movement against re-miliarization after the horrors of World War II.

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See the thing about fundamentalists and trads and Christian nationalists and MAGA evangelicals and ethnocratic bigots is that they render the faith so boring.

I take no issue with the fact that they would look at me and say that I’m not a member of the faithful because their faith is radically, inherently, ontologically distinct from mine. My God is too big and too loving and too esoteric to fit neatly into the gendered understanding of an authoritarian white father disciplining his children for not perfectly falling into lockstep. My Savior is the man who told the religious leaders “Caesar can have his idolatrous blood money, but give God your heart and your faith,” challenging the notion of an earthly ruler. My apostles wrote of the throne of man being empty—there are no masters or kings or governments, there is only Jesus Christ, Basileus Basileōn, king of kings. I believe in radical oneness with God through Christ—one flesh and one body, biblical marriage with the bridegroom whose flesh and blood make up the holy Eucharist. My faith is Queer, ancestral, esoteric, anarchist, insurrectionary, anticolonial, antiracist, unorthodox, disruptive, free. When I encounter the divine, or pray to the saints, or sit in the chapel to pray, I am experiencing communion with the sublime, in every sense of the word, the same presence that made the apostles fall to their faces before the transfiguration, that shaped the world from void, that animates the deep care and rage which boil into every aspect of my being.

When conservatives tell me I am not a Christian it is only because they cannot conceive of a Christ and a faith so big, so all encompassing, so beyond anything our human minds can comprehend, and they cannot conceive being in tune with this divinity and being left senseless by the knowledge that the divine above all else is us and loves us more than we could ever comprehend, such that experiencing this love is enough to leave one fundamentally, ontologically changed down to the fiber of their being. I feel sorrow for them. I pray that Christ may reach into their hearts and open their eyes, that they may see not only the horrors that they commit but also the deep love and freedom that awaits them through abandoning their fundamentalism and their bigotry.

Or, in other words, me every time I see another conservative Christian whining about how people aren’t doing Christianity right because they don’t adhere to a super narrow and watered down version of the faith:

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locklyle doodle i commissioned from the lovely gwi! i’m obsessed with their pose here it’s so cute 🥹

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Had my first swim of the summer 💚

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woodcut by Sarah Fuller

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Ok, loves, so we've all got the message that joking about suicide is bad for your mental health. Now we need to get on "joking that the planet/all of humanity has no future is bad for societal health/encouraging resistance to bad shit."

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Ok, loves, so we've all got the message that joking about suicide is bad for your mental health. Now we need to get on "joking that the planet/all of humanity has no future is bad for societal health/encouraging resistance to bad shit."

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Caption From @ essenceofblackculture on instagram:

Kristi Williams

@kristi_williams_black_history, a Black woman whose aunt survived the Tulsa Massacre, saw Oklahoma trying to silence Black history-and answered with action. She started "Black History Saturdays," free community classes to teach what the schools won't.

Now the room is full, the lessons are real, and the legacy lives on. end caption

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This is a heroic feat that shouldn’t be needed. But because it is, a hero emerged.

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One guard lies. One guard tells the truth. One guard thinks he's telling the truth but operates from deeply unsound epistemological principles that were inculcated by his elders to steer him to specific predefined conclusions, he's not lying but nothing he says is as actionable as he thinks it is. One guard is honest but he's got that thing where he keeps confusing your left and right with his left and right, and even when it's just him he's always got to stop and think for a second to remember which is which, and long story short he's never once said the correct door on the first try. One guard says whatever the first guard to speak says because he's afraid of being left out. One guard claims the opposite of whoever was first to speak because he's a contrarian. One guard does that fuckass postmodern "what is truth" song and dance because he doesn't actually know which door is the correct one, he lost the briefing packet and for obvious reasons he can't pick a door to check in person. Defeats the whole point if you can come back