a person from 150 years ago would be terrified by modern stuff . however , a duck from 150 years ago would just be all like ,still got lakes? yes ? okay cool
“How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.”
― Dorothy L. Sayers, Gaudy Night (1935)
Reblogging again because I thought they changed the quote so I decided to look up the actual quote and it’s not fake that is very much the actual quote
You know what we need more of? Beginner’s classes for
adults.
It’s supposed to be really, really good for you to keep
learning new things as you age. It helps stave off strokes and dementia and Alzheimer’s
and improves memory. And hey, learning stuff is fun.
But I really don’t want to be infantilized when I try to
learn something. And I definitely don’t learn the way a child does. And
honestly, what adult wants to be in the same class as children? Very few.
This occurred to me recently because I’d like to learn how
to actually ice skate properly. My parents never signed me up for classes,
because it wasn’t a thing they ever cared about or thought about. Now I’m in my
twenties and want to learn, and also don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of
eight-year-olds who probably honestly skate better than I do. Because that’s
embarrassing, and embarrassment is not how you learn.
Would it be good to lose the social stigma of being worse at
something than a child? Yes. Hell
yes. But we’ve got to start somewhere, and like I said: adults don’t really
learn the way kids do, and a lot of people use these kinds of activities to
make friends, and I don’t want to make friends with an eight-year-old, either.
So.
Beginner’s classes for adults. Let adults suck at stuff and
learn how to get better and learn new things and broaden their horizons, while still being treated as adults. Classes for writing, for pottery, for chess, for art, for instruments, for singing, for sports, for chemistry. For everything, dammit.
I think I’ve reblogged this before but I don’t care
I brought my biracial 6 y/o niece to see The Greatest Showman
She was a little bit confused by Anne Wheeler (Zendaya) and Phillip Carlyle’s (Zac Efron) relationship, and why they couldnt be together. I told her “this movie takes place a long time ago, and back in those days, people with light skin and people with dark skin weren’t allowed to be together.” And JoJo’s face dropped and she got super sad and turns to the screen and goes “oh. Oh no.” And honestly my heart BROKE. I went “but they love each other anyways.” And her face lit up and she went “REALLY?!” And then during Rewrite the Stars her smile was so huge my heart exploded.
Later on there’s a part in the movie where Carlyle and PT Barnum (Hugh Jackman) are talking in front of a building. JoJo leans over to me and goes “ohhhh so they’re allowed to be together because they both have light skin?” And i gave her a sad look and said “actually no, during this time you weren’t allowed to be with someone if you were both boys or if you were both girls.” She whips her head to me and gives me the angriest look and screams “WHAT? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE” and slams her fist on the arm rest. I laughed and went “they don’t even WANT to be together though, JoJo”
There’s a few minutes of silence before JoJo turns to me confused and goes “they dont?” And i gave her a confused looks so she goes “they dont want to be together?” I laughed and went “no! Barnum is married and Carlyle loves Anne remember?!” And she squinted at me and went “but they look like they love each other.” And i went “how do you suppose?” She threw her hands up in exasperation like it was obvious and went “he saved him from the fire!! They DANCED together! And they look at each other like they love each other.” I turn back to the screen slowly as a realization hits me…
From this picture, we would assume that Dean passed out in the middle of a particularly kinky fling.
How did he get back? Did he and the woman have this soft-bondage fling in the room, without waking Sam up? Did Dean walk home from her place, fully dressed, bra and tie and flog around his head, only to pass out mere feet from the bed?
The last time we saw Dean hungover was “Beyond the Mat,” where he had to get drunk for case purposes and Sam was a total dick to him. In contrast, this time, Dean’s gotten drunk for fun, and Sam gives him a pitying look and lets him sleep in.
And then there’s breakfast.
When Sam gets back from the interview, it’s exactly in time to see Dean, in sunglasses, loading up on bacon. His favorite food, bacon.
Because as Dean knows, nothing treats a hangover better than a big pile of bacon.
Basically?
Dean’s being a massive faker, trying to pretend that everything is fine. He’s weirded out that Sam is mothering him, and so he’s determined to prove that he’s living the same great life as always.
He wasn’t nearly as drunk as he’s pretending to be. The flogger and the bra are plants. The alternative is that a woman decided to leave at least $40 worth of stuff with her random drunken fling.
This is a thing that women generally don’t do, and what’s more, the writers know they don’t do it. Once previously, they used a pile of discarded lingerie and clothing to imply that a massacre, not an orgy, had taken place.
That scene, like this one, requires the viewer to look deeper in order to see a truth that is much darker than what is originally implied.
Sam and Dean can track each other’s phones. Dean knew when Sam would be on his way back, and he timed it so that his brother would have front-row seats to the breakfast scene. Dean went out of his way to play up the contradictory states of 1. craving bacon and 2. being massively hungover from partying.
Dean says “whatever happened to you being nice to me” hoping that he’d worn out Sam’s patience and things would go back to normal. Instead, Sam pulls out a gift bottle of alcohol.
Dean instantly drops the pretense of being hungover. He takes off his glasses, doesn’t protest the volume of Sam’s voice, and starts working the case. He’s also eating his bacon as obnoxiously as possible- not because he’s hungover, but because he’s fucking with Sam.
Imagine being in a relationship in which you are treated like an equal, consciously and unconsciously, sexually, emotionally, socially, romantically, without being bound by gender expectations, without risk of pregnancy (or having your reproductive rights taken away from you), without feelings of inferiority, without being mistreated or neglected because men don’t understand your body and can’t be bothered to learn how to give you pleasure (or that you even deserve pleasure). Imagine having a reciprocating relationship with someone who knows how to touch you and how to talk to you, who will never abuse you or take away your consent. Imaging feeling powerful, safe, like the default rather than the specific or second-class. Imagine not requiring special handling by awkward, inconsiderate men who were never taught any better. Imagine being allowed to touch and enjoy and indulge without apprehension. Imagine being able to trust your partner. Imagine knowledge and understanding, someone who sees your depths and treats you the way you’d treat yourself if you hadn’t been told from birth that you weren’t worth it.
Girls aren’t “making them gay.”
Girls are fantasizing about being equal.
I have wondering about this in fandom for many years and reading this just made me tear up. I figured this was a big reason, but breaking it down to this extent made me so extremely sad. I realized a long time ago that even if I met the nicest guy in the world, I still have to battle all those things mentioned above. Just being friends is hard. I don’t have a happy history in this area like a lot of women and I have major trust issues with men and I wish somehow that wall could be broken down and we could all truly be seen as equal…as people with value. If you have all of the above with someone of the opposite sex then you are really lucky. See women are expected to give all those things listed above and settle for not getting them in return. I believe it’s a rare thing if you have it returned. Like I said, if I was with the nicest guy in the world I will always doubt myself, think he see’s me as different, talk to me different… Why? Because that’s our experience. This world raises us to believe we are worth absolutely nothing. The idea of being equal is one of our greatest fantasies.
It’s sad that it has to be a fantasy.
It’s totally sad.
But on the other hand, slash writers are some of the most empathetic people I know. And they’re great educators, too, probably in ways they might not expect. A good slash fanfiction writer can help women understand their desires and overcome some of those feelings of shame and worthlessness.
Think about how many girls have learned how to masturbate thanks to slash fanfiction.
Sometimes just knowing that we’re all reading and enjoying the stories is an immense comfort. People will tell you that slash is trash, that fangirls are desperate and pathetic, but ladies telling ladies that they’re allowed is a powerful thing.
Yeah, oh man. This is. Yeah, this is a lot. I especially feel the taboo surrounding female sexuality to the point that even though I’m Pretty Gay myself, I’m uncomfortable with my own sexuality (not as in orientation) and also dealing with the sexuality of other women. Like in some ways, I am always hesitant to appreciate sexiness in women because we are almost never shown female sexuality in a safe, respectful, and equal way and it still freaks me out.
I will never forget — and I wish so *badly* I still had a copy — the essay one of my exes wrote before she gafiated, in which she talked about how the act of writing slash and being part of the slash community in general had allowed her to “write herself back into her body”.
To, essentially, take off some of the blinders and filters western culture had put on her, all the things that had convinced her that, as an “overtall, fat, awkward, anxious, and altogether unattractive” person (she did have some anxiety issues, but none of the rest was true by any measure but all the lies we’ve ALL been told), she deserved neither happiness, nor romance, nor anything resembling sexual parity or satisfaction.
We met through fandom — she later told me she’d been quietly lurking on my mailing lists and around my websites for two years before she ever actually spoke to me — and we had four good years together before our relationship started to fall apart.
And, while not all of our happiness — together and separately — can be laid at the feet of the various slash goddesses, quite a lot of it can be.
Slash wrote *me* back into my body, too — several times, in several ways. Slash connected me to genders I never could’ve imagined, or could’ve imagined being *worth* connecting to in the days before I really understood the possibilities inherent to taking the media I had been given and *transforming* it.
We are *here*, and our pleasure is worth it — our pleasures, plural, are part and parcel of our identities.
And, you know, some of us, after we’ve been writing slash for a good, long while?
Find new ways to express those pleasures when women are there, new ways to understand those aspects of our sexualities — our *identities* — which include *hetero*sexuality.
It’s a journey. A process. A continuum. A spectrum. A *multiverse*.
AAAAAH! Thank you so much @dirtydirtychai !! It’s always a joy when someone’s writing about the psychology of fanfic gets back out into public circulation. We need these essays – they are part of our history and part of our validation.
Thank you 🙂
women deserve sexual pleasure. the fact that this is a controversial statement is at the heart of why slash is so popular with women AND why there’s no shortage of crusaders ready to explain (with horrible enthusiasm) that it ‘shouldn’t’ be.
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