#pay the rent

[genderfuckpirate]

this Invasion Day, I'm paying the rent

While I wanted to be able to support the Invasion Day protests in-person, my immune system is still shot from COVID and I didn't want to risk being exposed again. Instead, I've chosen to donate. I know that donating is not a possibility for everyone, but if you can here's a great article on different charities to support:

You can also set up a recurring donation at Pay The Rent. I've donated to BlaQ, a charity supporting the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander LGBTQ+ community, as well as SEED, the Indigenous youth climate network.

We have a long way to go to repair and address the ongoing damages of colonisation and discrimination in this country. Changing the Date is just one step. We need to be looking to the future and supporting First Nations folk directly.

Always was, always will be Aboriginal Land.

[silveragelovechild]

Back in the day, I saw the “Underworld” (2003), a Matrix like action movie disguised as a vampire film. I think it was suppose to be set in England, but it had an Eastern European vibe. While the main characters were English or American, supporting actors were not. I later found out it was filmed in Hungary.

I bring this up because Viktor, an ancient vampire, was played by an actor who not only drank blood but he also chewed the scenery. A few years later, when seeing the two sequels, I realized Viktor was played by Bill Nighy, an actor I usually liked. He must have been paying the rent with this role.

This week I saw “The First Omen” and as so it happens, Bill Nighy plays a Satanic priest. I guess Nighy’s rent was due again. It’s a prequel to the 1976 Antichrist classic “The Omen”. I won’t delve too much into the plot but it involves Margaret, a young American woman (Nell Tiger Free) invited by her home town Cardinal (Bill Nighy) to attend a nunnery/orphanage in Rome.

Margaret soon experience odd visions. We also learn that as a child she had psychotic episodes where she couldn’t tell the difference between her visions and reality. (But through out the movie, character ask her if she’s doing okay and she always answers that she’s fine.)

Like all of the earlier Omen films, some grisly deaths herald the coming of the Antichrist. They are suitably shocking. There’s also a scene where Margaret witnesses a woman give birth, but the thing crawling out of her who-ha isn’t a baby. (That might give pregnant women in the audience nightmares!)

As a prequel, this movie adds a very interesting backstory to the Omen lore… why were all those nuns and priests working so hard to give birth to the son-in-satan? The answer is clever.

On the whole, “The First Omen” is an effective Antichrist Movie with one exception. Towards the end, a car driven by nuns-out-of-hell crashes into another car. A young woman crawls out of the wreckage and soon begins twitching and jerking. It goes on so long, to be frank, I thought she was doing a hip-hop audition for the Italian version of “So you think you can dance”.

But fortunately after the scene, the story gets back to it purpose - the birth of Satan Junior

If they do a sequel (which would be a remake of the original) I nominate Ethan Peck to play the role of Robert Thorn, originally played by his grandfather Gregory Peck.

By the way, ten years after “Underworld” (2014) Bill Nighy played a Demon Prince in “I, Frankenstein”. Hopefully Nighy made enough on The First Omen (2024) that he doesn’t need to pay the rent again until 2034.

Brazilian actress Sonia Braga plays Sister Sylvia, a satanic nun in this film. Back in 1976, she starred in the delightful “Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands”. Braga made a number of American films soon after, including “Kiss of the Spider Woman” (1985). I haven’t seen Braga in a film in quite some time. I absolutely did not recognize her in “The First Omen”.

[ehlnofay]

always was always will be aboriginal land. sovereignty was never ceded.

[mias-back-from-the-dead]

tbh i think the funniest phenomena that's been happening in the last couple years is "youtuber, having gone too deep into the research hole, has been made an investigative journalist against their will"

[checkthefeed]

[ KEVIN DURANT | PAY THE RENT ]

KEVIN DURANT BY PAY THE RENT

Featuring: Ryan Pluche, Benny Kaufman, Max Warbington, Keenan Cawley, Keegan Hosefros, Blake Lamb, Justus Hines, Brian Pracht, Mike Gray & Friends

Supported by: Dinosaurs Will Die, Donut Shoppe, Airblaster, Moron Wax, Freedawgers Only, Sparklie Bunny, Zephyr Farms

[shotmrmiller]

single dad simon not knowing how to be a dad. not his thing. doesn't get it. hand him a gun and he can take it apart and put it back together in his sleep. but a diaper? formula? baby food??? knows next to nothing.

so you see him, miserable old man with sunken dark eyes, hunched shoulders and a screaming baby at his doorstep with groceries in his hand and decide to help. (besides, you're also suffering with a lack of proper sleep)

he's not a good dad but he's a protective one. he's at your throat in an instant, baby in arm almost behind his back, ready to sink his teeth into your jugular. you squeak out that you're a part time babysitter. you can help. you've got the most experience with babies her age.

you keep your eyes on him, tired eyes now sharp as flint. it's scary how quickly he'd moved. footsteps barely a whisper. his breath chills your skin.

threatens you with your life if so much as a hair on her head is hurt. he must be really tired if he's willing to accept help being this defensive.

you take the chunky babe and bounce her as he opens the door to his flat. you don't dislike kids but you're not their biggest fan either. babysitting is just a means to an end. easy money that goes toward your tuition.

simon, you come to learn, doesn't care. he thinks you're the missing parent. he doesn't ask you if you can help watch over the child. simply knocks on your door and hands her to you with the diaper bag. mutters that he'll be back and with food.

he helps himself to your couch when you tell him that the baby is asleep. takes off his shoes and is snoring in seconds. simon also doesn't help the rumors going around the building. "a terrible parent, you are. how could you abandon your baby and husband? he's been struggling for months!"

simon leaves you sputtering when he tells them to stop talking about his missus like that or he'll kill them in their sleep. burp the baby, pet, or she'll keep us up all night.

at least he pays well :/

(if you go out for a friends night, which he will drop you off so stop talking about uber, he's telling you to go say goodbye to our baby who happens to be asleep in her crib and if you're wearing a short little number he's gonna watch you bend over to kiss her fat little cheek before he takes you to the bathroom to eat it from the back and is sending you to his car with trembling legs and a slap to your arse. don't look so tasty next time idk)

[demonicsuffrage]

Bruce showing his kids affection, aka, gift-giving

Tim, who finally got a spleen transplant after Bruce had begged him a million times, returning home from the hospital: Hey Bruce

Bruce, extending papers towards him: Welcome back. These are for you, sign here

Tim: Aren't these are Wayne Enterprises papers

Bruce: Yeah it's your company now :)

Tim: What do mean it's my Company now?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

16-year-old Dick, returning home after winning his mathlete championship: What're the papers for, Bruce?

Bruce: It's your new mansion's paperwork

Dick: What?

Bruce: On your new private island :)

Dick: WHAT?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason, running into Bruce on patrol: Sup

Bruce, with a man in tow: Thank god I ran into you, Jason

Jason, eyeing the guy beside Bruce: Who's that?

Bruce: You couldn't get to family dinner last time because your bike was broken so

Jason: So you got me a guy?

Bruce: He's the new pilot for your new helicopter :)

Jason: My fucking WHAT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cass, day after she defeated Bruce in training for the first time: Bruce, where's my suit?

Bruce: Oh I gave it away to charity.

Cass: What? Why?

Bruce: I'm getting you a new suit made with triple weave Kevlar and titanium dipped resin lined with memory foam

Cass: Expensive?

Bruce: Just $1,058,600 :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian, in his initial days as Robin, who hadn't killed anyone in an entire month: Good morning, Father, what are you doing?

Bruce, choosing a colour scheme for the new zoo he's about to make for Damian: It's a surprise:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duke, listening to music: Man i wish someone would buy me Spotify premium so I can listen without all these ads

Bruce, handing him the deeds of Spotify the next day: :)

[fruity-blogs]

Sometimes...

Taking a leap forward means...

Leaving a few things behind.

[justinempire]

Pay The Rent

[blondeaxolotl-twstocs]

He's the reason you're with me now, even if I didn't want either of you in the first place.

[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.

[wanologic]

The Mansons have Infinite Money

[t4t4t]

Hi !

I got bottom surgery on July 25th :3

I'm recovering well but I'll be on bedrest for a while. Collie and I will need rent help for September/food/gas/utilities/etc. Two disabled trans women. Anything helps ! Thank yall so much for all you've helped so far, it's saved my life ❤️

https://venmo.com/u/nora-esther-rose

https://www.paypal.me/NoraEstherRose

https://venmo.com/u/Leah-Esther-Rose

https://www.paypal.me/androgynophore

[nikiferous]

Handers brainrot

[w4y2dawn]

Kingdom Hearts IV, Submit your Re:sume 💼💵

[learnelle]

Walking home from work and admiring some late night Parisian bookshops 🍂📚