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That movie/book trope of the pain-in-the-ass antagonist that ignores the Clearly Larger Threat, only to get absolutely GLOMPED on mid monologue by that exact threat will never not be funny to me.
The karmic justice is enough to make my happy tingles tingle, and it's almost as good as the protag getting to them.
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My favorite part about KNH is that, it's not afraid to make this extremely gorgeous specimen (and HE IS GORGEOUS in canon, not just bc fans think he is) look absolutely pathetic and act like a loser when he needs to be.



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The idea of the One Ring, and the journey it faced through the story is... wildly amusing to me
This ring, this key to accessing a world beyond the mortal realm, this wellspring of power, absolute, corrupting power, goes from one of the most powerful entities in Middle Earth, to Isildur, to a riverbed for countless years.
Imagine it all from the Ring's perspective.
You know you're the bomb. You know you can get what you want, how you want it. You can corrupt anyone.
Then a Hobbit comes along and picks you up. And you end up stuck in a cave for 600 years.
There are perfectly viable goblins next door, but no. You're stuck with Gollum. For centuries. Dammit.
FINALLY, some poor unsuspecting fellow tricks Gollum, and the ring swaps hands. Good, because those hobbits are nasty things, hard to corrupt. Fortunately, there are plenty of other mortals, and this land is far from any Hobbits.
EXCEPT IT'S ANOTHER HOBBIT.
What the fuck is your luck? This is bullshit. You can't deal with this crap. Bilbo hardly ever uses you, and he's resilient as is, so you're shit out of luck if you're trying to use him to bring around the rise of Sauron. Well fuck.
Fast forward nearly 60 years, and finally, /finally/, he hands you off to someone else. Even letting go of you is a feat in itself, but whatever. You're sick of these damn hobbits.
What the fuck, why are you in ANOTHER Hobbit's hands now? This is absurd now. Who are these people, and why are they so difficult?
Frodo is a pain in your ass, working on him will take a while.
Tom fucking Bombadil isn't even /fazed/ by you, which pissed you off even more.
And finally, when you're nearly winning, fucking Sam comes along and picks your ass up.
Another Hobbit, by the way. You'd think the world was full of them, at this point. But no, some folk think they're a fucking myth.
And then, it all comes full circle as Gollum takes you to your fiery grave.
This poor ring, man... Can't catch a break.
#lotr#the one ring#the one ring did nothing wrong#sam gamgee is too pure for this world or any other#the real victim of Middle Earth was the ring
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Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.
Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.
The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.
But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.
I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.
My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"
Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."
From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.
He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.
Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.
He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.
But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.
*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)
EDIT
I was blown away by how many people have reblogged this post. I believe my grandfather would be very happy to see that he can give some hope and love to others even now.
I do not want him to stay faceless; so here is a piece of art I made for his obituary, with a slightly altered quote added now.
Dahlias were his favorite flowers. Orange ones especially. They reminded him of the home he had to flee from as a child.
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Guys, queers. Specifically my fellow queers.
I work at a library. We do this thing where, every so often, we weed the collection. It hurts to see books go, but it's necessary to make sure there's room in the library for new materials.
I have seen so much support for the library in text, and I've seen folks pass around those beautiful "queer your library" flyers. Keep doing that. That's great. Nothing wrong with that. But you HAVE to turn your words into action. We MUST remember to actually go to our local organizations and libraries and actually, with our own fucking hands, interact with these materials we want to see more of.
My branch is medium-sized for a library, maybe a little small. We don't have as many materials as I'd like, but we have fundamentals. Tell me why, even with all the verbal support I've gotten from my local community for the library as a resource for our LGBT+ community, every single trans biography and a good chunk of our vaguely queer theory books were on the list. This isn't a scheme to take the books off the shelves, it isn't another bigoted American governmental push. The only thing we look at when we weed is how long it's been since the last time the item was checked out.
Three years.
No one in my community interacted in any meaningful way with the few books on trans life and history we physically had on the shelves for three fucking years.
I promise you the materials you want and need are there, but this isn't a horde. This isn't a static safety net. You have to use them. You MUST use them or, in the future, maybe in three years, they *won't* be there anymore.
This isn't a vague post, there's no one person I'm hinting at or calling out. I'm not even talking directly to anyone who's directly in my line of sight. I just want everyone to hear this. Big library, small library, whatever. Doesn't matter. Please, we cannot be losing our shelf visibility like this.
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This has a lot of little details, including: Polites' microphone has a Winion, Poseidon's trident is behind him, and Ody and Penny have their rings.
Pedí ayuda para los personajes a mis seguidores en IG y muchos coincidieron en que Poseidón era el derrotado JAJDJAJAA
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"Oh you had a plague? Come back to us when you had a World War, brand new unconventional weapons, and a new international order."
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Hey you! Yeah! You!
Do you like music videos?
Do you like Epic the Musical?
Do you wanna help a lowly college student out?
I’m working on making a student music video for Epic the Musical!
Fill out this survey!
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'you still listen to music from 10 years ago 🤨?' bitch if prehistoric humans had audio recording technology id be sat up here listening to grog and unga bunga's greatest hits don't play with me
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