#sorry a “pinko commie”

[spockvarietyhour]

He's two seconds away from being accused of being a gay communist.

[subversivecynic]

I feel this (about most jury duty tbh) but there is no universe where a competent prosecutor would allow my sorry ass on a jury.

Like, it's not going to take Hardison to figure out that I am a commie pinko leftist who is thrilled to see good folks engaging in direct action.

is this anything?

[artimusgriegomaximus]

https://www.tumblr.com/artimusgriegomaximus/751346864552542208

Go back to China you fucking commie. Your kind have no place in the land of the free. The first amendment exists no matter how hard you god damn pinkos try to destroy it.

Sorry you anon fuck! I am a 2A supporter and anti fucking liberal wokester faggot soy boys.

[writerwhowritesao3]

Post-Starcourt, Neil is driving Billy to one of his follow-up appointments with the doctors who saved his life after the ““Fire”“ and “”Ceiling Collapse”” at the mall. “This Land Is Your Land” by Woody Guthrie starts playing on the radio. Billy is singing along quietly. And in the driver’s seat, his dad is also singing along. 

Neil hasn’t beaten Billy since that night at the mall. Not since he and Susan received the phone call that no parent wants to receive, no matter what your relationship with your kid is: the “Sorry to disturb you so late, sir, but your son was just admitted to the hospital in critical condition and you really need to come down here” phone call. 

Billy survived and Neil swore that things would be different. Looked Billy right in the eye when he woke up after surgery and promised him that “things are going to be different from now on, Billy. We’re going to be better.”

It’s been three months and so far, Neil had kept mostly true to his word. He hasn’t hit him and he hasn’t yelled at him and he hasn’t called him a faggot or a pussy or a disrespectful little shit. He’s given him a few warning looks. But Billy thinks those are maybe just out of habit. 

Neil had gone weeks without beating Billy before, but that period of safety had always ended, every single time. Then again, those times had been before Billy had almost died and before his dad had promised him that things would be different.

Still. Billy can’t help but test the waters a little bit. And it’s relatively safe because they’re in the car on the highway—what was Neil going to do? Pull the car over and smack him? 

“You know this is a Marxist song, right?” Billy says. 

“What are you talking about?” Neil asks.

“‘This Land Is Your Land’ is a Marxist song,” he repeats. 

“Woody Guthrie wrote this song,” Neil said, shaking his head. 

“Woody Guthrie was a known communist, Dad,” Billy said, his lips turning up into a small smile. 

“Woody Guthrie was a patriot.”

“Maybe communism is patriotism.”

Neil sighs and pulls the car over. Billy stomach clenches up. He’s so sure he’s broken the seal. So sure that his dad is going to backhand him at the very least and then he’ll have to lie to his doctors about the resulting bruise. It won’t be the first time he’s had to lie about bruises. 

Neil doesn’t hit him. He turns to look at Billy in the eye. 

“I did not get shot up in Vietnam so that you could grow up to become some pinko commie,” he says, his tone stern and even. “Get your head straight, son.”

Billy manages to get his hands to stop shaking by the time they pull up to the hospital.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Sometimes a Great Notion

This is one of those old movies my mom requested that we couldn’t even find at our local library. It’s incredibly hard to track down, which says more about how easily lost our film history and culture can be as we move from format to format rather than its quality as a film, but that is another conversation. Basically this 1971 film is the second that Paul Newman directed, and it tells the story of the Stamper family, a family who run an independent logging business in a town where the local logging union has gone on strike. As independents, they take the union’s former contracts and as the film goes on, the consequences of that choice become larger and larger, and depending on your perspective, this is either an indomitable tale of the perseverance of the human spirit or a disheartening look at everything that makes America the end-stage capitalist nightmare it currently is.  

Some thoughts: 

It appears that I’m supposed to think Henry Fonda, as the patriarch of the Stamper clan, is a charming old coot, like an Archie Bunker type, complaining about Commie pinko socialists and calling his estranged son a New York fairy. I’m not really seeing the charm here.

I’m not 100% sure what’s going on with this subplot where Joe B (Richard Jaekel) and his wife apparently attend the Church of God and the Metaphysical Science...so maybe they’re cult members too? That never really gets delved into, which is a head scratcher.

I feel like with this dialogue they’re supposed to be kind of...gruff and jokey with each other, but I really don’t get it. None of it seems funny at all, just aggro. 

I think I'm just really confused about what exactly this movie IS. It’s not a character study because we’re learning so little about these people. It doesn’t seem to be a David vs. Goliath small business taking on The Man story because the whole union vs. Stamper family thing doesn’t seem to be anything the Stampers are that concerned about. Leeland (Michael Sarrazin) coming back after a long absence is certainly a wrinkle, but no one is actually delving into what that means for the family or how they feel about it. Like the purpose of the film seems to just be “these are some people doing their jobs and going about their business for a couple hours.”

Like for real, there are multiple really long segments that just show them doing logging shit. 

And listen, I’m not one of those people that only wants to watch media where I like the characters. There are a lot of bad people and evil characters that I don’t want to emulate and would absolutely hate to be around in real life that I REALLY enjoy watching. Hell, in the last year, my main TV hyperfixations have been Succession and It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. So it’s not the fact that the Stampers are sexist, stubborn, union-busting jackasses. I just don’t really care about any of them and I question why I should care about their story because the movie isn’t doing a very good job at convincing me. 

There are some Very Good Dogs! At least that’s something.

This would be a way more interesting movie if Leeland and Viv (Hank’s wife, played with stunning grace by Lee Remick) hook up because Leeland is the only one who talks to her or listens to what she has to say. He sees her in a way no one else in the family sees these women at all. ESPECIALLY because even though Henry is Leeland’s father, Hank had an affair with Leeland’s mother too, which is deeply disturbing because we find out he was 14 and she was 30. Fuck, now there’s statutory rape and unresolved trauma involved. Wouldn’t this be a fantastic thing to actually talk about and delve into? Wouldn’t this whole relationship entanglement and the ripple effects it’s had on this family be really interesting? NOT ACCORDING TO PAUL NEWMAN I GUESS.

As much as I love Paul Newman, I’m really questioning a lot of his directorial choices, too. He can’t control the story or the script so much (this is based on a Ken Kesey novel) but other choices are baffling. The pacing is a mess. Some scenes go on for what seems like forever for no reason, others are brutally short or feel cut off. The transitions between scenes are all these quick cuts that don’t let anything breathe. Leeland and Viv’s deep, intimate conversation ends with her saying Hank’s satisfied and Leland asking “Are you?” and then BOOM next scene where bluegrass kicks in and they’re all riding motorcycles. What should have been a body blow of a moment gets its legs cut out right from underneath, and it’s a damn shame.

“To work and eat and screw and sleep and drink and keep on going, that’s for what. That’s all there is.” - the film’s central thesis, uttered by Henry Stamper in his big Oscar-worthy monologue. Which in a nihilist sort of way I agree with, but there’s a big fat asterisk that gets ignored here: if you’re doing those things and directly, knowingly causing the suffering of others - and you can make choices that AVOID that as much as possible, and you DON’T - well that’s where your philosophy turns to shit, I’m afraid.

And the consequences of that philosophy are laid bare when the Stamper family has one HELL of a bad day. Play stupid games and win stupid prizes. 

I really thought the movie was going to end with Hank sitting alone in his dark, quiet house drinking beer and feeling sorry for himself and maybe reflecting on the enormous cost of his decisions. Instead the movie ends with Hank displaying his father’s severed arm at the top of his boat, flipping the bird to the town he’s turned his back on. And frankly it’s a big “fuck you” to the audience as well, for thinking that the Stamper family could learn or grow or see outside of their own rugged individualism for one second. 

Did I Cry? I probably should have, but any emotional weight the tragedies we watch hold gets completely deflated when no one learns a goddamn thing from them. 

All things considered, this movie is a perfect encapsulation of the toxic attitudes that have yielded every single moral failing of America from its inception. The myth of the American frontiersman, pulling himself up by his bootstraps, owing nothing to no one and simply trying to work hard and provide for his own family - it’s all wrapped up in the same wars (both literal and figurative) we’ve been fighting for centuries. We’re supposed to cheer at the Stampers for sticking to their guns and moving forward to get the job done no matter the cost, and that’s precisely the fucking problem. Costs matter, especially when they’re paid in human lives. And I would be more willing to view this film as a fascinating artifact of attitudes that have gone by the wayside if we weren’t having the same damn argument today. As a result, it ends up just feeling frustrating. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[oury-boros]

richard "pinko" abneg, known commie: Prey is prey, sorry to have to disenchant you two dreamers. You total Communists.

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League International #7 (1987)

Kevin Maguire not really trying looks an awful lot like John Romita Jr at his best.

Ah! It feels good to be back! Taking a crack at John Romita Jr while he's just sitting there not doing anything particularly wrong. Just going about his business pretending to be a comic book artist! I don't know what John Romita's politics are but I bet he now agrees with Donald Trump on one thing: naming your kid after you is a huge fucking mistake. Was all that previous nonsense poisonous, vile, and toxic? I suppose one could argue the point. But I'd also guess that somebody arguing that point has never seen John Romita Jr's art. Or perhaps they have seen it and like it because they have a terribly underdeveloped sense of aesthetics. Otherwise nobody would argue with me at all! They'd just read the previous poisonous, vile, toxic nonsense and nod their heads in agreement while pausing for a second to snort a line of Adderall. Fine, I'm sorry, JRJR! Obviously you're an artist! Drawing squinty people with block heads and weird noses holding geometric guns without a single curve on them absolutely falls under the definition of art! Although I draw the line at accepting that Rob Liefeld is an artist. That's a bridge too far! What the fuck does that even mean, "a bridge too far"? It must be a term bombers in WWII used, right? "What the fuck do you mean, carpet bomb Dresden?! If we fly past the Geralthauskopfplatz Bridge, we're definitely getting scrawked by anti-aircraft flak, you bingehart!" Did that sound like an authentic American bomber pilot from the 40s? It's not like Catch-22 is my favorite book or something. Wait. Catch-22 is my favorite book. I guess I'm just no good at written impressions. I assure you it sounds exactly what you'd expect from an American pilot in the Forties if you heard me do the impression live. Also, this is probably the last month of my life where I'll be able to say, "Catch-22 is my favorite book." Because I'm over 500 pages into Gravity's Rainbow and it's just as fucking amazing as everybody who has pretended to read it says it is. This issue begins with Guy Gardner regaining consciousness after having been violently assaulted by his employer.

Why was the mouse glowing green?!

In my memory, Guy Gardner's change from dickhole to sweetest guy on the team came after Batman punched his lights out. But apparently that isn't the case. It's possible this new whack on the head is the cause or maybe it's something a bit later. I bet an editorial mandate came down which said they couldn't have Guy suffer serious head trauma from Batman punching him. So they had to add this new scene where Guy basically gives himself the head trauma that results in a catastrophic change in personality. The Justice League didn't quite finish destroying The Gray Man last issue so that story gets resolved pretty quickly this issue. Doctor Fate transported him to the Realms of Order where a big blob of Order disintegrates him. Which is what he ultimately wanted. It's what we all ultimately want. It's just you don't know that you want it until you've lived long enough for all the wonder to be bled out of life. That's why he's the Gray Man! Some people think life's too short but at 49, I'm beginning to suspect that it's way too fucking long.

This comic book passes the Reverse Bechdel Test: "Any story that has only one woman in it and every scene she's in, she's treated like a sexual object."

With The Gray Man out of the way, it's time to get to the important part of the story: turning the Justice League of America into Justice League International! I wonder how many people this change pissed off in the 80s? Fucking globalist woke elite bubble bullshit! People talk in derogatory terms about the coastal bubbles but they absolutely shouldn't. I won't disagree that I grew up in a totally different environment in the San Francisco Bay Area than people who grew up in the Midwest. A bubble? Sure. But it was a fucking good thing. I was recently showing the Non-Certified Spouse some of the station breaks from local stations in the late 70s and early 80s out of San Francisco and she was amazed at the representative shorts these stations presented, especially KTVU's "Bits and Pieces." Sure, there were the ones about ethics and morality humorously presented with a horse and bulldog puppet. But there were also the ones that showed different ethnicities and their lives, often ending with "I'm proud to be a Chinese American!" or "I'm proud to be a Black American!" The one about Japanese Americans even mentioned how Japanese families were put in interment camps during World War II. One was about Italian Americans and instead of Italian history, it just showed Italian art and various activities of people in the Italian community. One of the Japanese American shorts just had a Japanese American kid having to explain how he was tired of answering questions about being Japanese in America because he was fourth generation and just American as anybody else. But I guess that kind of commie pinko hogwash is why I'm a big fat America hating socialist! As I was saying before my politics politely interrupted (my politics interrupting impolitely would look like this: Trump voters should be forced to shit in their own mouths for all eternity), the main thrust of this story is to set up Justice League International. Judging by the cover, that means hiring some guy with a bucket on his head from Russia and Captain Atom, another white American male.

Ah yes! The introduction of the best character of the series: Big Barda!

Big Barda might not be on the team but at least there's another female character. Sure, Doctor Light was sort of on the team for three pages. And pretty soon, Fire and Ice will join. But it's mostly just been poor Black Canary having to put up with Booster and Blue Beetle's jokes about banging her. Max and J'onn discuss the United Nations possibly backing the Justice League while Superman talks respectfully with President Reagan. What a mistake! The biggest do-gooder on the planet normalizing fucking Ronald Reagan! He should be scolding him with a liberal smattering of Kryptonian tsk-tsks! That's when a Kryptonian gives you a little burst of heat vision every time you deny the AIDS crisis or invoke the spectre of Welfare Queens or destroy the economy by lowering the top marginal tax rates pretending that the money saved will trickle down to everyone instead of fat corporate cats simply keeping all the extra for bonuses and investors. Fuck that guy. I'm so mad now!

Of all the digs they could have taken with Reagan, they poke fun of his dementia?! Christ, Giffen and DeMatteis.

Hal Jordan drops by headquarters to give Guy a good talking-to but Guy doesn't need it because he's suffered a traumatic head injury on top of his brain damage alongside Batman's sucker punch to the face and now he's Mister Sweetbeans. And because he's acting so nice, nobody gives a shit that this is actually a medical emergency. Backing Maxwell Lord is a computer satellite in space. Is it Brother Eye already?! Are they already working together in 1987?! Or is it just some alien gizmo from the Millennium bullshit coming up? I don't remember! Heck, this Maxwell Lord might even be a Manhunter! Anyway, the satellite begins destroying shit on Earth with a giant heat beam. The Justice League, having nearly nobody who can do anything about it, doesn't call Superman to fix the problem. Instead, they decide to spend precious hours borrowing a space shuttle from STAR Labs to launch them into space to battle the space station. Also, they leave Guy Gardner back at headquarters on monitor duty. Because who needs the guy with experience battling in space with a ring that can protect every other member of the League while in space? Also the ring is the greatest weapon in the universe. So, you know, sideline that guy, right?

It's possible this was in the era where Superman couldn't survive in space either, really. But then that's even more incentive to get fucking Guy Gardner up there with them!

The Justice League manages to stop the satellite's destruction but mostly only because it was a huge set-up so every nation could see them save the world. Everybody wants them defending the planet now so the United Nations agrees to back them with one condition: two new members, one to pacify the U.S. and one to pacify the U.S.S.R.

I've read a lot of ridiculous things in comic books but Rocket Red's power levels being nearly equal to Captain Atom's might be the most ridiculous.

I love how Captain Atom's power level is 9+ but Rocket Red's power level is 8.43 instead of 8+. I guess the accuracy of whatever system they're using breaks down over 9. Captain Marvel quits the team and Batman steps down as leader so J'onn can lead. And that's about it, I guess! The issue ends with some kind of flim-flam about how its the 80s and we've become a global world and boundaries just don't work anymore and superheroes are cool as shit. I guess it's inspirational or something. There's still just one woman on the team though. Justice League International #7 Rating: B. Seven issues in and the Justice League has defeated two villains who weren't actual threats to anybody. They were just scams to get the Justice League some press. They also beat up and killed an old guy who was just frustrated with the boredom that came with the immortality the Lords of Order forced on him. So all in all, they're nearly as terrible as the New Titans who practically only ever battled relatives while putting the residents of New York City in danger every time.

[sorrowmarked-a]

sorry for being a dirty pinko commie on main today, i usually try and keep this stuff under wraps until you talk to me for 30 seconds on discord.

[cherokeefrank]

Funny, I was going to say the same thing Pinko.

And the problem is it's full of middle easterners, not white supremacists. Sorry Pinko, you took the words white supremacist and made it worth less. And speaking as a half breed Cherokee Irish, if someone gets the Antifa "white supremacist" stamp, I'm already assuming they are good people because your camp has called an elderly couple walking the street where ya didn't like it nazi's.

Video evidence and all.

Ok, lets look

at the real reason and not the reason you want. The religious book that tells them to kill everyone who isn't muslim might have something to do with it. And I already know what you're thinking, you're gonna try to tell me it doesn't have that in the book. Yes, it does. Don't make me drop your pants, bend you over my knee and spank you in front of all of Tumblr like your daddy should have.

I'm not right wing, I'm independent. Let me give you some old native wisdom that maybe you can comprehend with the anarchy side of your delusion, certainly not the commie side.

Left Wing Right Wing. Same Fuckin Bird.

But hey, You want to call The New York Times right wing, you go right on ahead.

No skin off my back.

But for everyone else, this is the actual article that I've had the snips from in the pictures above. Feel free to share the link if you want.

Oh and Pinko, go read a bible. Ya really need it.

I bet your mom buys you mega blocks instead of legos you bitchass loser

At least I have mega block and not racist lmao. Can u build a throne to sit on with ur tiny ass Lego blocks? Thought not 😂

Srsly these zionist throwing playground insults is hilarious. Aww did the little white supremacist baby want a bottle? Maybe a lullaby 🥺🥺🥺

[luvsjimmyreed]

Jimmy Reed: On Soda With No Ice

Jimmy Reed: And I would like a large Sprite with no ice.

Waitstaff: No ice? Really? This is America! In America, we drink soda with ice.

Jimmy Reed: *deadpanned* Gosh, I'm so incredibly sorry! You see, I guess I was... uh, under the mistaken impression that... that America is a free country. And that I have the right to, uh, exercise my freedom to drink soda without ice in it.

Waitstaff: *rolling eyes* Fine, whatever. A sprite without ice.

*later on*

Waitstaff: All right, sir! Here is your bill.

Jimmy Reed: *notices that the bill identifies him as "Pinko Commie"* Uh, manager please!

Waitstaff: Gee, sir, I'm sorry! The manager is off for the rest of today.

Jimmy Reed: Then I'll look up the number and give the manager a call, tomorrow.

*later on*

Lauren Taylor: This seems so unlike you, Jimmy!

Jimmy Reed: *sighing* Yeah, I know. I'm not usually the type of person to get easily fussed, but... I just don't appreciate being treated in the manner I was just for making a simple request.

[ukdamo]

Elaine Stritch sings ‘I’m still Here’ from Follies - great lyric, delivered with consummate assurance. A poem, sans pareil.

Good times and bum times I've seen them all and, my dear I'm still here Plush velvet sometimes Sometimes just pretzels and beer But I'm here

I've stuffed the dailies in my shoes Strummed ukuleles, sung the blues Seen all my dreams disappear But I'm here

I've slept in shanties Guest of the W.P.A But I'm here Danced in my scanties Three bucks a night was the pay But I'm here

I've stood on bread lines with the best Watched while the headlines did the rest In the depression, was I depressed? Nowhere near I met a big financier and I'm here

I've been through Gandhi, Windsor and Wally's affair And I'm here Amos 'n' Andy, Mah-jongg and platinum hair And I'm here I got through Abie's Irish Rose, five Dionne babies, Major Bowes Had heebie-jeebies for Beebe's Bathysphere I got through Shirley Temple, and I'm here

I've gotten through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover Gee, that was fun and a half When you've been through Herbert and J. Edgar Hoover Anything else is a laugh

I've been through Reno, I've been through Beverly Hills And I'm here Reefers and vino, rest cures, religion and pills And I'm here Been called a 'Pinko', commie tool Got through it stinko by my pool I should've gone to an acting school That seems clear Still someone said, "She's sincere" So I'm here

Black sable one day Next day it goes into hock But I'm here Top billing Monday Tuesday, you're touring in stock But I'm here First you're another sloe-eyed vamp Then someone's mother, then you're camp Then you career from career to career I'm almost through my memoirs, and I'm here

I've gotten through, "Hey, lady, aren't you whoozis? Wow, what a looker you were" Or better yet, "Sorry, I thought you were whoozis Whatever happened to her?"

Good times and bum times I've seen 'em all and, my dear I'm still here Flush velvet sometimes Sometimes just pretzels and beer But I'm here

I've run the gamut, A to Z Three cheers and dammit, c'est la vie I got through all of last year And I'm here Lord knows, at least I've been there And I'm here Look who's here I'm still here

[thisweeksdoodles]

This Week in Doodles! ( May 1st through May 7th)

Some of you (None of you) may have noticed the change at the very top of this page. ‘Updates Sundays’ has been amended to say ‘Updates Mondays*’. All the asterisk indicates is this has been changed. There by, this post is no longer late. For the next few weeks, at least, it’d be beneficial for me to begin posting on Mondays, as opposed to Sundays. This may, or may not, be a permanent change. In the future I will try to make a post on its own announcing this decision. May First, or May Day, is apparently a day where people are meant to organize and congregate on worker’s/lefty pinko commie issues. Why does this feel like news to me? At work our conversation devolved drastically; stable benefactors of capitalism and faceless corporate conglomeration generally don’t take these ideas seriously. The fist is a result of this conversation. That is a chunky arm and a strange hand. At first I sort of thought the hand was ‘good enough’, but the more I look at it the more I know I can do better. The middle image I don’t have much to say other than I should have spelled it as “GRANATE” instead of “GRENADA”. I played a lot of World War II themed FPS games in my formative years, instead of reading.

“Life Styles of the Rich + Famous Some Die with a Name, Some Die Nameless” Wyclef Jean, Canibus – Gone Till November

May the 4th happened, so I felt vaguely compelled to indulge in some Jedi themed imagery (really its just a light-sabre, isn’t it?). While I don’t much care about the Star Wars series (sorry?), it has become part of our cultural memory. It’s influence is too vast to calculate, its part of a collective experience that will have impact on story-telling for generations to come. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, damn it.

 Sincerely, This Week in Doodles

[mimsyaf]

Sorry for not knowing how to include the tags properly @deputychairman — I’m like a week old on tumblr and not very well-versed in how to use it yet. @youandthemountains had some very good tags here too.

Oh dear, I don’t even know where to start. Umm when I was a child I wanted to be rescued by Peter Pan (was never awesome enough to dream of being him) and failing that I wanted Zeus to come down and take me for his cupbearer. Hey, he’d done it before with Ganymede and I thought it sounded like an awesome career path. I had my mom write out a note to leave on the windowsill for both of them, just in case either showed up while I was in kindergarten, letting them know that I’d be back shortly and to please wait for me.

I so did not mean to shit all over Daniel, and certainly did not mean to insult having to work for money in an unglamorous job! I wanted to be an actor or a writer, pursued various iterations of both, worked in elder care and a series of soul-crushing temp jobs, and now I manage a small team for a technology company. It was very much do that or resign myself to never having a child due to not being able to afford one. I really really wanted to have a kid, and knew at my age it might be hard and expensive. I would never look down on anyone for having to choose the best of not-fulfilling career options. I’ve made that choice myself, again and again.

I can absolutely see how what I wrote pushes buttons — Cobra Kai in general pushes all kinds of buttons about regrets, getting older, compromises we make, mistakes that we may not be able to fix... I mean, it’s ALSO a silly karate fanfic of a silly karate trilogy, but there’s a lot in both the original trilogy and the current series about genuine trauma and consequences.

I honestly was just meaning to write about the bonsais, not a sweeping indictment of Daniel in general, and CERTAINLY not meaning to sneer at anyone who works in a job that is not quite as magical as what they might have hoped for at a younger age. How could I? That applies so much to me too. 1000%

If I were to be critical of Daniel as he is at the beginning of CK, it’s just that he’s bought into the consumerism and materialism so hard. The fancy house, the country club... I heard an interview with Ralph Macchio where he said he thought Daniel might be politically centrist, because he IS a small business owner. And I am a pinko commie who’s always afraid of selling out. So.

To be completely transparent, I hate the very concept of country clubs. And Daniel seems to GLORY in them in a way that is simultaneously nauseating (to me, because I want to burn them down and build community centers) and endearing because ohhhh Daniel. On some level he is still that kid drenched in spaghetti sauce, and I just want to snoogle him.

Anyway, I do see him growing through the series, and yes I do hope very much that he and Johnny can both spur each other on to more healing and growth.

I meant to write a whole post about capitalism and I was just too tired (my little one is a toddler and you know how that goes) so I just wrote this short little blurb. Was never my intention to insult anyone and I’m so sorry if I’ve done so. 💙💙💙

Where do the bonsais come from? Does Daniel order them in bulk from Amazon? Do they huddle quietly in a back room at the dealership, waiting to be given away? Who waters them? Does Daniel worry about the fact that most customers will kill theirs within a month? Does he ever miss the smell of Mr. Miyagi’s Little Trees?

Daniel used to touch each bonsai with careful and trembling hands. Now he gives them away like NPR tote bags.