#but also fuck capitalism?

[vmkhoneyy]

“People are inherently terrible” no!!! Have you ever seen a child wait for their friend while they tie their shoelaces? Have you ever known someone who would bring hurt squirrels and rabbits and mice to the nearest vet just so it doesn’t suffer? Have you seen someone grieve? Have you ever read something that hit your heart like a freight train? Have you looked at the stars and felt an unexplainable joy? Have you ever baked bread? Have you shared a meal with a friend? Have you not seen it? All the love? All the good? I know it’s hard to see sometimes, I know there’s pain everywhere. But look, there’s a child helping another up after a hard fall. Look, there’s someone giving their umbrella to a stranger. Look, there’s someone admiring the spring flowers. Look, there’s good, there’s good, there’s good. Look!!!!

[blueskittlesart]

i hope everyone in nintendo’s management department dies and goes to hell no matter what and i’m not kidding

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[sashayed]

i'm finally reading moby dick and there's a lot i didn't know about it such as that the first several dozen chapters are very funny! to me ol Call Me Ishmael has a kind of "what if bertie wooster were 1. american 2. competent" narrative vibe, although admittedly i am what one professor once called an "idiosyncratic" reader, meaning u should not trust anything i say. anyway the book i THOUGHT "moby dick" was going to be doesn't start until captain ahab finally stumps upstairs in chapter 36 and then boy does it ever, because he has I Am In A Tragedy disease and it is contagious and now everyone who was normal two pages ago is monologuing ominously in the dead of night. did you guys know herman melville is a very good writer? have you heard about this? he really knows that if you encounter someone who has you doing soliloquies you should Leave. if you encounter that person while you are on a boat in the middle of the 19th century ocean you are fucked for sure. poor starbuck is out here like "i really would prefer to be in a story about doing my Fucking Job"

[bacchuschucklefuck]

while teen while goblin while aroace while injured while doing your best

[crow-talks-hockey]

something about how trades really do affect players. how it's not just us as fans being crazy or reading too much into it. it's real and it's painful. erik johnson has lacked the hutzpah he once had ever since leaving colorado, as if he could bear landeskog's injury but the second he was forced to leave it all came crashing down. sidney crosby has lost much of the joy he once carried and it's because he had the human, golden embodiment of that joy in jake guentzel torn away from him when he needed it most. dylan larkin shed genuine, heartfelt, distraught tears when tyler bertuzzi was traded away. the penguins still welcome marc-andre fleury to pittsburgh every time he plays there because, no matter where he is, that is his home. pk subban could never return to the same player he was after he was taken from price. trevor zegras is seemingly incomplete without drysdale at his side. brandon duhaime is lacking his connor dewar. bowen byram no longer has his alex newhook to lean on and laugh with. travis koneckny and nolan patrick may never even get the chance to play another game with or against one another. and who could imagine kuznetsov as anyone but a capital? do you really think of pavelski in the green of the stars or do you see him proud in teal beside thornton and marleau? did shea weber ever really stop being a nashville predator? and what about beauvillier, horvat, compher, dumolin, burakovsky, kadri, yamamoto, hornqvist, eberle, o'rielly, barrie, jost, gaudreau, karlsson, carter and richards, martin, and so many others? even wayne gretzky himself went to three teams post trade, searching for that spark he had in edmonton after they made him leave. jagr had eight after pittsburgh. you are not crazy for grieving, in some small way, a player you lost. and they aren't crazy for feeling distraught either. these teams are family. and family is everything, even if it gets ripped apart so easily.

[doghart]

i’m catching up on tsv, i think something that eskew prod does extremely well is using horror absurdism to capture the absurd horror of capitalism. it’s clear in eskew too, but i think it’s especially fantastic in the silt verses. the casualness with which sacrifice is discussed. how red lobster has a god that has and continues to take human sacrifice, and so do cereal companies, cops, and the grueling start up that has a “fun room”. it captures EXTREMELY well how it feels to live under capitalism, that you’re constantly bombarded with horrible things, discussed cheerily in a nice tone. the way it’s simultaneously numbing, hysterical, and horrifying. i think i was especially fond of how in ep 39, protest against sacrifice was taken as radical, a propostorus, idealistic thing that’s just so SILLY it’s not even worth considering, something that feels very real to revolutionary organizing/protest irl. i also liked how despite the face, when everything gets down to it, when everything is about profit, all people come down to are bodies. all capitalism is a gaping maw, and it eats the poor and marginalized first, but doesn’t STOP eating just there. the very literalized version of this, where the profit wheel (and all that includes— war mongering, the prison industrial complex, wage labor, etc) is given a very real literal set of teeth, but the body count is the same. so the electric company has a god, and so it takes humans sacrifice. do real electric companies not have a very real human cost? overworked and underpaid labors looking to make rent, or well off comfortable employees no less likely to get the axe under profit margins, or the blood shed when colonizing in the first place, in clearing the space for the electric company to move in. is that not also a very real human sacrifice? the commercial aimed at elderly people talking about “back in my day, we would just talk about all this human sacrifice and find a compromise :)” is so bleakly hysterical, but is that not very accurate? that you can put a good face on it, but in the end what it comes down to is that you’re being sold the chance to be human fodder? that there is no glory or honor on a battlefield or in working yourself to death, just mud and shit and bodies to throw at problems. idk! i’m rambling but it’s a deeply engaging podcast.

[jesse-pinko]

Not to be all we live in a society but growing up under capitalism is realizing that nothing you loved as a child was ever inextricable from capitalism’s core tenants of greed and abuse of power and not even your childhood memories are sacred bc they were manufactured to turn a profit… Disney is a monstrous multimedia conglomerate that chews up and shits out everything in its path, Nickelodeon created a feeding ground for child predators to literally film their abuse of child actors and peddle it as children’s media, the author of Harry Potter is a raging bigot using her wealth and status to persecute some of the most marginalized people in the world… children are never safe in a world that will always prioritize money and concentration of power over their well being, and a childhood built off of a foundation of corruption and exploitation will always be a traumatic one, no matter the privileges it affords

[thornescratch]

The utter GLEE and willingness to choose violence that each of these men exhibits as soon as they pick up a tortilla, this team building exercise game was perfect, ten out of ten, no notes.

[naamahdarling]

Labor, on its own, has no inherent value. The willingness or ability to labor does not translate to virtue. It can confer financial value, since everyone should be compensated for their labor, but it absolutely does not have inherent moral value.

Disabled people are not obligated to perform for you. They are not required, morally, to break themselves in order to earn some sort of personal value and prove their "worth" to society. They do not need to exhaust every possible means of survival to warrant aid, or spend the entirety of their existence pursuing the same amount of production as others even though it takes everything they have and leaves no room for anything else. They are not obligated to push their limits.

If that pisses you off because YOU have to work to the limit, or beyond, your problem is that you are not being paid enough or you are being asked to do the work of more than one person. Not that disabled people get help for "nothing".

You deserve better, too, you lovable dingus! Every single thing that benefits disabled people will benefit you and the ones you love, either immediately, or eventually. All of it!

[angerydome]

I told a friend to keep an eye on their banks/cards because people are getting caught up in that recent data breach, and their response was,

“This is all capitalism’s fault.”

And I … err … is it??

[faunandfloraas]

Birth date analysis // Seungmin - September 22nd: The Day of Restless Drive.

September 22 - Virgo/Libra

The Day Of Restless Drive

Those born on September 22 have a restless drive. Usually they bring the one they are working on to completion only to immediately set out on a new one without rest. They are also capable of handling several projects at the same time. Those born on this day have a low boredom threshold, and consequently demand challenging people and situations. They can be outgoing and dynamic types at one time, and solitary and unapproachable at another. In either case, their strong character is unmistakable.

Often September 22 people oscillate between an offensive and defensive posture. In one sense, such postures may be one and the same since a good offense is the best defense and vice-versa. Whether in a broad social context or on a personal level, the issues and ideas those born on this day are most often concerned with involve fairness and equality. In general matters pertaining to the delegation and exercise of power. In putting forth their arguments, they can be very ironic, witty and outright funny. Their humor, however, is not for everyone as it is liable to be off-beat, sardonic, perhaps even macabre.

Those born on September 22 can hide a warm heart under a forbidding exterior, but generally will only open up to people whom they deeply trust and value. Even then they may find it difficult to open all the way, principally because their orientation is highly realistic and the ironies of life all too visible to them. This day carries insight and clarity of vision both literal and figurative. September 22 people are excellent judges of character, and capable of sizing people up very quickly. Those few friends whom they allow into their inner sanctum they value most highly, usually for life.

September 22 people can often have a greater effect on those around them than they realize, and indeed can register a high degree of shock value. Because of their often disturbing impact, they should seek to be more aware of their effect on others, both friends and foes alike. True warriors in the battle of life, they must take stock of their armaments and defenses, using them judiciously and effectively, and avoid isolating and alienating themselves.

Strengths:

Individual

Perceptive

Well-directed

Weaknesses:

Guarded

Acerbic

Dark

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[simplyender]

spiderpeople that could defeat spot first try:

1. spider-ham (cartoon logic dictates that he can just pick up the holes)

2. sun-spider (disabled solidarity. would probably get spot to come to the realization that hes 100% disabled and be empathetic about it)

3. spider-punk (would explain that a majority of spots problems originate from the shitty system hes in and that capitalism is the problem, not miles)

[katabay]

original thief series basso & garrett :)

ngl, it's about quality over quantity for me. an npc can have a total of three minutes of screen time, but if they have a cool name, they can live rent free in my head and I'll spend several hours trying to decipher drawable features from a blurry screenshot of pixels

there is a vague hint of a story here, and that's because every time I try to play thi4f, I get incredibly frustrated with how Not Fun the game play is. like, is the story good? well. but it has a PLAGUE. that should've given it instant 'I'll replay this once a year' status in my heart, but the game play sucks so bad that I've never finished it. I can't believe Not Fun gameplay beat out my obsession with narrative plagues.

anyway, the idea is basically if the original era had a game with a plague centric narrative and some other stuff I liked out of thi4f thrown into a narrative blender, with a heavy dash of horror thrown in because some parts of the thief games were scarier to me than entire dedicated horror genre games.

⭐ places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app

[effen-draws]

OKAY it's going to take a while to get to the point with this one but-- de meta time. You see I realised just now that the skua which is referenced throughout the game is a y'know a skua. Like Great Skua skua, like Stercorarius Skua.

And ALRIGHT that might be my bilingual brain that's slow on the uptake (all my bird knowledge is in Danish so forgive me) because perception literally points it out:

BUT HEY. HEY. I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT THE GREAT SKUA'S WHOLE DEAL IS BUT IT IS NOT NICE. SO LET ME TELL YOU A LITTLE ABOUT THEM BEFORE I GET INTO THE MEAT OF THIS META:

Skuas are a type of predatory bird that primarily lives off of stealing other marine bird's food. Basically they're very good at outmanouvering and bullying other birds until the unsuspecting gull or tern (for an example) drops the fish it had caught. But The Great Skua takes that a step further as the largest of its kind. Becuase it will straight up kill to rob another bird, while also consequently getting the other bird as a meal in the process. Like, killing gulls and puffins are just a regular part of its diet along with the theft.

AND IN CASE THIS ISN'T ALREADY OBVIOUS: THE GREAT SKUA IS AN INSANE BIRD TO HAVE AS A HERALDIC/SYMBOLIC BIRD.

But then I thought; well yes of course the first bird that the nations of Mundi would find as a proof of reality would be the Great Skua. Of course the colonisers would have their first proof of discovering "the New New World" be this bird. Of course the people who after seeing this skua, this living proof that there was more out there to exploit, would then go to other isolas to steal and kill to sustain themselves. Of course the people that established the Suzerain of Revachol, which was (to quote Joyce) "the greatest concentration of wealth mankind has ever seen", would be justified by a Great Skua.

Of course the future foundations of the capitalist world in Elysium would see a skua, the bird that lives of off kelptoparasitism, as their proof of a New New World and new new oppertunities.

And then it only makes sense that The Great Skua became the symbol of the discovery of Insulinde; Mundi's most "promising" steal.