if I had my mouth, I would bite;
if I had my liberty, I would do my liking
- Mercutio, Romeo and Juliet
I came out here to have a good time, and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.
-Unknown English Teacher (via swarthyvillain)
I’ve never read anything more fucking true in my whole fucking life.
Well if this isn’t fucking meta…I don’t know what is.
It’s just basic Fuckonomics
caligula had anime eyes
wait romans painted their marble sculptures
it looks like a cheap theme park ride mascot
here’s a statue of Augustus
and here’s a reproduction of the statue with the colors restored
i honestly think that what we consider the height of sculpture in all of Western civilization being essentially the leftover templates of gaudy pieces of theme park shit to be evidence of the potential merit of found art
"I tried coloring it and then I ruined it"
And you know what the funniest part is? The paint didn’t just wear off over time. A bunch of asshole British historians back in the Victorian era actually went around scrubbing the remaining paint off of Greek and Roman statues - often destroying the fine details of the carving in the process - because the bright colours didn’t fit the dignified image they wished to present of the the cultures they claimed to be heirs to. This process also removed visible evidence of the fact that at least some of the statues thus stripped of paint had originally depicted non-white individuals.
Whenever you look at a Roman statue with a bare marble face, you’re looking at the face of imperialist historical revisionism.
(The missing noses on a lot of Egyptian statues are a similar deal. It’s not that the ancient Egyptians made statues with strangely fragile noses. Many Victorian archaeologists had a habit of chipping the noses off of the statues they brought back, then claiming that they’d found them that way - because with the noses intact, it was too obvious that the statues were meant to depict individuals of black African descent.)
Sorry, I keep reblogging this over and over, the last comment is unbelievable. Wow.
okay so all of the above is very interesting and important and it should always be spread and known
can we talk about how apparently caligula looked like a redheaded joffrey baratheon like can we just deal with that
I think this is it.
I think this is my favorite post on tumblr.
no. fuck no. actually, wait, got that last sentence wrong. fuck you. fuck the bastards who made this, fuck the idiots who completely forgot the fucking circumstances of this line - fuck you all.
clara is talking about her echoes. the fractures of herself she created for - oh, what was that silly reason again? oh, yeah, it was to save the doctor. she literally split herself into a million pieces for the express purpose of unraveling the damage the great intelligence did to his timestream.
clara’s echoes are born to save the doctor. what the fuck is your problem with clara stating something true? she’s literally saying that the fractures of her soul she created to save the doctor were born to save the doctor. wow, so horrible! i can’t believe her!
clara’s not saying ‘wow, i am the only person who has ever helped the doctor and saved his life!! i’m so much better than all the other companions he’s ever had!’ if you think that’s what she’s saying, go fuck yourself.
she’s falling through the doctor’s timeline, after sacrificing herself so she could save the doctor’s life. she’s speaking for her echoes, for all of the pieces of clara being born and living and giving their lives for their doctor all across the universe. clara’s echoes are born to save the doctor. that’s a fact, fuckity bye. if the doctor didn’t need saving, the echoes wouldn’t exist, so the echoes are created in order to save the doctor.
don’t make/reblog some dumbass gifset of the new who ladies rolling their eyes at a selfless woman who killed herself a million times over so that the man they all love could live. it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s a fucking dick move.
fuck you. fuck every single one of you.
I think, you know, what else is gross is that all these tons of women are calling themselves feminist for playing up some bizarre smear campaign against a female character…for…what, exactly?
No really. For what?
Because as far as I can tell, there is no actual legitimate reason for this. You hate Clara because she’s not your fave. You hate Clara because she became too important. Clara pulled stunts bigger than Rose becoming Bad Wolf, four times (timestream jump, convincing him to save Gallifrey, getting him a new regeneration cycle, going back the fuck in time and inspiring him to become the Doctor), and it just fucking burns you, doesn’t it? It burns you that a character you decided not to like actually became monumentally, impossibly integral to the mythos of Doctor Who as a show. Boo hoo.
And you know what, don’t bring Martha into a petty smear campaign against another female character. She’d never do that shit.
Rose might have tho.
"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you’ve tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says ‘What wonderful memories you have! Fancy you still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.’ "
"Oh Susan!" said Jill. "She’s interested in nothing nowadays except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grow-up."
"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she’ll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one’s life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."
"Well, let’s not talk about that now," said Peter.
#there is a special kind of rage that fills a girl’s heart the first time she learns about what happened to susan #and that rage stays with a girl #she carries it around #she remembers when she puts on her make up ‘aslan kicked susan out of heaven for this’ #and she looks into her reflect and whispers #’better to reign in hell than serve in heaven motherfucker’ #the only lesson c.s. lewis had to teach us was that men are intimately #threatened by women who own their own sexuality
What Should We Call Girl Pain?
The starlets who posed for the July 2003 Vanity Fair “It’s Totally Raining Teens!” cover symbolized femininity, success, beauty, talent, youth and perfection. Average girls in the aughts didn’t have the accoutrements to be them, but they could watch them. Even better than watching them, average girls could read their books. The books based on their shows and movies heightened the fantasy. Average girls could be any of these starlets for $3.99 or $4.99. Average girls could be like them while they waited to grow up, not knowing they are already like them.
Five out of nine of the starlets featured on the July 2003 Vanity Fair cover have admitted to struggling with mental illness, making them more than Mary Sues. For Mary-Kate, her pain was called anorexia. For Mandy Moore and Evan Rachel Wood, depression. For Lindsay Lohan, addiction. For Amanda Bynes, “an eating disorder.”
Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes, in particular, labored in Hollywood, as young, vulnerable girls, at the cost of self-love and self-awareness. Money and success couldn’t save them, ultimately, from the reality of illness and suffering. They both represent hurt and injury, and are mocked for it. When people are not cheaply waxing political about them, they are fetishized by gay white men and straight white men alike, mocked in the new lowest form of white male humor: White Girl Jokes.
Men never ask what they should call women’s pain, so they call us crazy. They call us crazy and they laugh at us. The same men who say women aren’t funny obviously do find women funny. They find women funny at the most inappropriate time: when we’re hurting. There is no sympathy, no empathy, for young women under the influence, on the verge of, or currently breaking down. Girl pain is titillating and amusing disaster porn. In Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes’ case, their celebrity eclipses their humanity; they become the “willing victims” of the public abuse of men. Their inner turmoil, a spectacle, is a living punchline reaction gif, making us ask, “Where are their people?”
Lindsay and Amanda, we know, have no people. Amanda Bynes, in a recent tweet, stated, “I don’t speak to my parents anymore.” Lindsay has always been people-less. We learned this, when Lindsay released “Confessions of a Broken Heart (Daughter To Father).” Amy Poehler and Tina Fey tried to be Lindsay’s people, when they staged an intervention in 2005. Their efforts failed.
We watched Britney Spears struggle in the spotlight from 2006-2008, until her parents intervened, like good people should, rescuing their daughter from her very public nightmare, a nightmare exacerbated by men like Sam Lutfi and Perez Hilton. We watched Demi Lovato, during her tour with the Jonas Brothers, punch a back-up dancer. Like Britney, Demi’s support system— her people— intervened. Demi began her treatment at Timberline Knolls. It was there, at Timberline Knolls, that Demi learned what to call her hurt and injury and girl pain: bipolar disorder, bulimia, self-medication, cutting, etc. Her girl pain inspired her last album, Unbroken, the most Lohan-esque song from the album being “For the Love a Daughter.” Britney is older than the girls on the July 2003 Vanity Fair cover, Demi is younger, but their girl pain is the same.
The girls on the Vanity Fair cover all seem to express a vulnerability and winking stoicism. They seem aware of the fact that they were corseted and boxed in— as the clothes, the color and the cover suggest— but not weak. Amanda and Lindsay, both on the sides, are not holding onto any of the other girls. Instead, they grasp the white structure.
What should we call girl pain?