bodyofvenuswitharms

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

are you saying it’s normal to ship real actual people and not just characters?

idk, bud, what is "normal"? is it "normal" to write about the life and times of Antony and Cleopatra, as Willy "The Bard" Shakespeare did? how about making a critically-acclaimed biopic about a real woman who really walked this earth, speculating about the sex lives of actual humans, like 2018's Colette (or indeed 1991's Becoming Colette)? is that "normal"? or what if you write a screenplay about the real Jane Austen and her doomed love life (Becoming Jane, 2007)? or about Thomas Jefferson's "sexual combustibility" (1776, 1972)? ooo, on the topic of the Founding Fathers, is Lin Manuel Miranda "normal" for writing raps about Alexander Hamilton boning down on another man's wife (Hamilton, 2015)? or, if you're more sympathetic to the other side of that conflict, where do you think The Crown (2016) falls on the scale of "normal"?

really, who among us is "normal"? how do we define "normal" in a media landscape absolutely bursting with the authorized, unauthorized, uncouth, and unabridged imagined lives of real people, living or dead? for that matter, how do you define "real" people? if you're writing about a public figure whose entire persona is curated for you through tabloid magazines and film directors and editors and makeup artists and graphic designers and publicists, how "real" can this figure be said to be to you? if you're writing about the completely made-up life of a movie star reimagined as a college student in your hometown falling in love with his costar who through a twist of fate has become his roommate, is this still a "real" person you are writing about? is this a "normal" pastime? is writing anything fictional, fantastic, or completely fabricated based on a sliver of the actual world a "normal" thing to do?

idk! but I do know that it's fun! and that it mitigates the toil and drudgery of our brutish and short human lives to imagine our favorite hot celebrities having wild monkey sex, and that it hurts no one in the undertaking.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

Also businesses expanding despite not having enough staff to cover existing work.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

I will fill my home with the festive scent of irn bru

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

We will never know their names.

The first victim could not have been recorded, for there was no written language to record it. They were someone’s daughter, or son, and someone’s friend, and they were loved by those around them. And they were in pain, covered in rashes, confused, scared, not knowing why this was happening to them or what they could do about it - victim of a mad, inhuman god. There was nothing to be done - humanity was not strong enough, not aware enough, not knowledgeable enough, to fight back against a monster that could not be seen.

It was in Ancient Egypt, where it attacked slave and pharaoh alike. In Rome, it effortlessly decimated armies. It killed in Syria. It killed in Moscow.  In India, five million dead. It killed a thousand Europeans every day in the 18th century. It killed more than fifty million Native Americans. From the Peloponnesian War to the Civil War, it slew more soldiers and civilians than any weapon, any soldier, any army (Not that this stopped the most foolish and empty souls from attempting to harness the demon as a weapon against their enemies).

Cultures grew and faltered, and it remained. Empires rose and fell, and it thrived. Ideologies waxed and waned, but it did not care. Kill. Maim. Spread. An ancient, mad god, hidden from view, that could not be fought, could not be confronted, could not even be comprehended. Not the only one of its kind, but the most devastating.

For a long time, there was no hope - only the bitter, hollow endurance of survivors.

In China, in the 10th century, humanity began to fight back.

It was observed that survivors of the mad god’s curse would never be touched again: they had taken a portion of that power into themselves, and were so protected from it. Not only that, but this power could be shared by consuming a remnant of the wounds. There was a price, for you could not take the god’s power without first defeating it - but a smaller battle, on humanity’s terms. By the 16th century, the technique spread, to India, across Asia, the Ottoman Empire and, in the 18th century, Europe. In 1796, a more powerful technique was discovered by Edward Jenner.

An idea began to take hold: Perhaps the ancient god could be killed.

A whisper became a voice; a voice became a call; a call became a battle cry, sweeping across villages, cities, nations. Humanity began to cooperate, spreading the protective power across the globe, dispatching masters of the craft to protect whole populations. People who had once been sworn enemies joined in common cause for this one battle. Governments mandated that all citizens protect themselves, for giving the ancient enemy a single life would put millions in danger.

And, inch by inch, humanity drove its enemy back. Fewer friends wept; Fewer neighbors were crippled; Fewer parents had to bury their children.

At the dawn of the 20th century, for the first time, humanity banished the enemy from entire regions of the world. Humanity faltered many times in its efforts, but there individuals who never gave up, who fought for the dream of a world where no child or loved one would ever fear the demon ever again. Viktor Zhdanov, who called for humanity to unite in a final push against the demon; The great tactician Karel Raška, who conceived of a strategy to annihilate the enemy; Donald Henderson, who led the efforts of those final days.

The enemy grew weaker. Millions became thousands, thousands became dozens. And then, when the enemy did strike, scores of humans came forth to defy it, protecting all those whom it might endanger.

The enemy’s last attack in the wild was on Ali Maow Maalin, in 1977. For months afterwards, dedicated humans swept the surrounding area, seeking out any last, desperate hiding place where the enemy might yet remain.

They found none.

35 years ago, on December 9th, 1979, humanity declared victory.

This one evil, the horror from beyond memory, the monster that took 500 million people from this world - was destroyed.

You are a member of the species that did that. Never forget what we are capable of, when we band together and declare battle on what is broken in the world.

Happy Smallpox Eradication Day.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

The wizard of oz. I was 5 & so fucking scared by the wicked witch of the west I had to leave.

what's the first movie y'all remember seeing in the movie theaters as a kid?? mine is sam raimi's spiderman

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

i’m in love with scotland’s snow plow names lmao

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

this rules

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

I’m absolutely obsessed with these. I got into tma & embroidery at the same time and these are just perfect!

So I know I said 'in no particular order'... buuut here's Episode 33 - Boatswain's Call.

Dedicated to soft nightmare man Peter Lukas.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

cant stop thinking abt ursula k. le guin’s essay abt the carrier bag theory….. she’s like, maybe the first human tool was not a weapon, but rather something that holds, a bag, a pouch, a vessel, something for gathering and storing and sharing. let’s shift the narrative of humanity from that of violence to that of safekeeping. and i’m like

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

Political parody became impossible when the british prime minister fucked that pig. Like there's never going to be a scandal that outmatches the time that world leader David Cameron put his dick in a dead pig as a joke. Recourse just flew out the fucking window for meaningful consequences happening for anything when a head of state was implicated in necrozoophilia and then continued to be a head of state for a year afterwards. And this was AFTER black mirror had a fictional pm fuck a pig, intended as satire. They didn't know satire was dead, like the pig, that he fucked, as a prank.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

When you want to do Magnus Archived stuff but have only obnoxiously cheerful fabric left, you ask yourself, What Would The Corruption Do? And then you get narstey with some stains and some happy little molds.

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

reblog this with the last song on your spotify wrapped 👀

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

I am just getting into the Magnus archives and suddenly everything is sinister and terrifying

[bodyofvenuswitharms]

Somebody give me creative reigns for a TV show. Picture this - Elvira and Dolly Parton starring side-by-side as twin sisters, both witches from humble roots. They’ve each lived wild lives independently and with a little huffy hostility towards each other, following different paths to become powerful enchantresses. As they reach old age, they realize the only thing they can’t replace with magic…. is family.