#the perfect opportunity for a spongebob reference

[dr-pokemon]

Pokémon fans when they have to work in order to live: LIVIN’ LIKE LARRY!!!!!!! Proceeds to work in misery .

Pokémon fans after a hard day: LIVIN’ LIKE LARRY!!!! Falls into bed and contemplates life.

[jamieaiken919]

THATS EXACTLY THE MOMENT I WAS THINKING OF DHDJCIHSHEKF

*Crashes through your window* IT'S TIME FOR YOUR DOSE OF AFFECTION!! YOU ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU BESTIE 💖💖💖💖💖

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

WE CAN CLEAN UP THE WINDOWS LATER BESTIE YOU ARE MORE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU MORE

[ribcagecarnival]

NO. 4 (Obama the Gleek)

Glee premiered in May 2009. I was about to transfer to a new middle school and Obama was four months into his first term. At just shy of 12 years old, I considered that pilot episode to be the best episode of television I’d ever seen. In seventh, eighth, and ninth grade, my mother and I watched the show religiously every week. In 2010 and 2011, we attended the concert tours—at one of them, we foolishly purchased VIP tickets that gave us virtually no perks, but through a cracked door, we saw Cory Monteith, and he waved at me before security shuffled him away to what I presumed was the actual VIP room, where he would participate in a real meet-and-greet. Monteith died in July 2013, the same day that George Zimmerman was acquitted of killing Trayvon Martin. By 2015, when the show ended, I hadn’t watched for years, and Donald Trump was entering the presidential race. And now, in early 2021, two more members of the original cast have died, Trump went from joke candidate to fascistic president to twice-impeached private citizen, and the entire world is in the throes of the worst viral pandemic in just over a century. Obviously I spent part of 2020 rewatching Glee. All art is a product of its time, either reflecting it back to us directly or functioning as a vision of what’s to come. Glee belongs firmly in the former camp. The progressive aspects of the show would not have been possible in the conservative pre-Obama era of American media, but plenty of premises and plot lines that passed for merely transgressive at the time would be shut down by contemporary cancel culture. Kurt’s coming out storyline in season 1 was a heartfelt, tender portrait of teen sexuality and coming-of-age that felt unprecedented and nuanced in 2009. But having an able-bodied actor play a wheelchair-bound teen (Kevin McHale) would have brought the full force of the online mob if it happened a decade later. A moment that has come under scrutiny on Twitter and TikTok comes from season 1, when Mercedes (Amber Riley) asks Mr. Schuester (Matthew Morrison) if the club can perform more Black music, to which Rachel (Lea Michele) snaps that it’s “glee club, not krunk club.” There are countless memes joking that in spite of the dizzying number of romantic pairings on the show, the OTP of Glee is Mr. Schue and jail—his bizarrely intimate relationships with his students were only ever called out by the show’s antagonist, Sue Sylvester (Jane Lynch), and it was always played for laughs. The most heartbreaking episode of Glee is Season 5, Episode 3, “The Quarterback,” which is a tribute to the late Cory Monteith. But it is arguably more difficult to watch a moment from the following season, in which a group of McKinley alums crash an adolescent Tea Party Patriots meeting in order to recruit members for the rebuilding glee club. The episode is from 2014, but the remarks made by the student attendees are downright depressing when you know that 2 years later, Donald Trump would be the president-elect of the United States. In season 4, when a new cheerleader named Kitty (Becca Tobin) is introduced, she makes remarks about the “lame stream media” that are snuck into a litany of insults as rapidly as machine gun fire. The audience never has a moment to meditate on the significance of these jokes, because pre-2016, we didn’t have to. At the time, having characters parrot the fringe commentary of Sarah Palin and Fox News commentators was a shorthand meant to indicate that said characters would either undergo a change of heart or be permanently vanquished. Glee’s run spanned Obama’s time in office, and the Hope & Change candidate’s ascent did not make room for the victory of villainy. We had entered the Liberal Gilded Age. One thing I forgot about Glee was how often it mentioned the failing economy. As we all know, Obama inherited a broken economy from his predecessor, and the entire country was wracked by home foreclosures and unemployment. But as a preteen, all those references were lost on me in favor of glittery show choir competitions and the Finn/Rachel romance. The constant mention of budget cuts seemed more like an arbitrary plot device than a grasp at historical accuracy. Watching the show as an adult, however, the economic currents underpinning the show are impossible to ignore. Sue Sylvester often mocked the glee club for having a warped, rosy, show-biz view of reality, but they always prevailed. Even when they were temporarily down, they would rebound, and they would eventually win. But Sue, the comically evil opponent to the superficially valorous glee club, was right. You could not fix the evils of the world by simply celebrating diversity, accruing celebrity guests, and singing a feel-good song. Yet this has been the Democratic establishment’s strategy since 2009. And it hasn’t worked for a long time. The secondary characters, much like real American citizens of the time, were desperate for real change and real solutions. This is not an Obama Exposed essay—of course, he made progress on certain issues. But most of what the country got were charming late-night appearances, secret concessions to conservativism as the Democratic establishment shifted further to the right, and an increasingly divided populace that left both the progressive wing of the Democratic party and the growing alt-right movement increasingly agitated with the state of the union. I loved Barack Obama when I was a teenager. But over the course of the Trump presidency, I became radicalized. I saw the flaws in his administration that wreaked havoc both domestically and internationally, and that ultimately enabled Trump to carry out much of his hateful agenda over the last four years. Just as I have outgrown the version of myself that watched Glee uncritically as an adolescent, I too have outgrown the fractured politics I parroted before I was of voting age. Glee characters are prone to flights of fancy, acts of supposed altruism that often wind up harming themselves or others, and inspirational speeches that are ultimately meaningless. Mr. Schuester is offered the opportunity for a transgender student to have private access to a single-stall bathroom in exchange for a moratorium on student twerking. At first, he refuses. It takes the full length of an episode for him to realize that this thing is not worth fighting for. And even then, it’s seen as some huge sacrifice for the club! This, to me, is a perfect allegory for the Democratic party—an institution that is purportedly invested in betterment and equality, but in reality was more concerned with optics and symbols. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Schue would have wept seeing BLACK LIVES MATTER murals being unveiled, and likely would have said that instead of looting the protestors should’ve just knelt and sang a Journey medley to the cops. Rachel Berry would have gone to a protest for a photo op while carrying a sign that said IF HILLARY WON I’D BE AT BRUNCH RIGHT NOW. I know this as deeply as I know that Spongebob Squarepants is gay and Daffy Duck is Black. Some things are just TRUE. In 2009, simply having queer and PoC characters centered on television was groundbreaking. In 2020, this is no longer enough. Simply acknowledging that marginalized people exist is not sufficient activism. In media, we deserve nuanced and complex stories that don’t subject them to even more of the stereotyping we’ve been experiencing for decades. And in politics, we deserve more legitimate structural change—reparations, secure voting rights, anti-discrimination laws, a livable minimum wage, universal healthcare that includes access to safe abortions—and less empty virtue-signaling. Glee is a tremendous way to escape from the horrors of our current state of affairs. But it is not merely a camp masterpiece. It is a cautionary tale. The circumstances that gave us Glee—an Obama presidency, decreasing voter turnout, the rise of the social internet, increased representation for queer and PoC and disabled people—are the same circumstances that gave us Trump. We don’t merely need our lives to be visible, we need them to be viable. We need to weaponize our passion and empathy against tyranny. We need to rebuild the world for the versions of ourselves that first loved Glee, without reverting back to who we were when it first aired.

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (iii.)

A/n: I wanted to insert a little more Connor in this one, so here we go.

Summary: Connor thinks y/n and Shawn are getting too close and thinks they need to slow down.

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, and a lot of flashbacks

Word count: 2.5k

***

The bus is quiet except for the soft clicks of my keyboard as I edit some photos, and Connor's occasional sigh when he can't fit a clip with another. Everyone had gone to bed hours ago, but neither of us were willing to stop working yet. Connor claimed his footage and ideas were "too exciting to put off until morning." But I just wasn't quite ready to sleep yet.

"Your knee is still pretty banged up," Connor mutters, looking up from his laptop.

I look down at the rough scab and run a finger over it, wincing. "Yeah, I probably should have taken better care of it after Shawn cleaned it."

"Hmm… I don't know why he was the one to clean it anyway."

I think back to the night just a week ago, when I was so determined to get the perfect shot, that I tripped and scraped up my knee pretty bad.

I don't even notice it, really. At least not at first. It's not until I feel that little bit of wetness on my jeans that I realize I might have hit something. And it's confirmed when Shawn comes into the green room, high on adrenaline. He reaches for me, like he does after every show despite the dirty looks from Andrew and Cez (who I'm assuming knows about Shawn's supposed promise to not try anything), but he stops short when he notices my leg.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?"

I brush off his worry with a dismissive hand. "I'm fine. Just fell when I was trying to get a photo. I got it, by the way, and it's definitely my favorite."

"Uh huh, that's great, hon. But you are really bleeding," he's on his knees in front of me, carefully trailing his thumb around the raw skin, seeing as the scrape also tore my jeans. "Does this hurt?" He pushes gently around my leg and I wince.

"Fuck. Yeah."

He sighs, "sit down."

"What? Why?"

"I have to clean it. It might get infected."

"Connor," I shake my head. "He was just being a good friend."

"Y/n, you can't keep saying that's all it is. I know what you look like when you like someone. I was once on the receiving end of it, remember that?"

"Fucking obviously, Con. And bow did that end for us?"

"We're still great friends," he tries to reason.

"But do you remember how long it took for us to get back here? We didn't talk for months. And no offense, but I'm not willing to lose my friendship with Shawn because I might have feelings for him. After what happened with us, I can't risk that again."

"So you do like him?"

I cross my arms over my chest defensively, "Yes. But it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna do anything about it."

"Other than lead him on?"

"Excuse me?"

He chuckles bitterly, "Nice hoodie."

"Don't." I give him a pointed look.

"When did he give it to you? Was it on one of your late night adventures?"

"How did you-?"

"You're not as quiet about leaving as you think you are."

"You're a dick. You know that?"

"I'm not the one playing with my friend's heart. Wearing his clothes, sitting in his lap when you think no one's around, sharing drinks, picking off each other's plates, sharing earbuds, falling asleep on each other, kissing foreheads and cheeks."

The more things he points out, the angrier I get. At myself, of course. Because he's right. This has gone way past unprofessional and I hate that I've let things go this far, knowing full well that we shouldn't be doing any of the things that we do.

"Do you see how this looks? Frankly, you and Shawn are lucky Andrew hasn't said anything to you guys yet."

"It won't get to that point," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly too hot in Shawn's hoodie.

"I hope not, because I would hate to see you lose your job because you let your feelings get in the way."

"It won't happen," I say again.

He sighs as he watches me shrug out of Shawn's youth hoodie. "I'm not doing this to be mean, y/n. You know I love and care about you. That's why I'm saying this. I don't want to see you or Shawn get hurt."

I nod, "I know." I clear my throat. "I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Y/n."

I sigh and turn back to face him, "Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

I chew the inside of my cheek and stand up, fixing my shirt. "Yep." I grab my laptop and go to the bunks where I fully intend to cry myself to sleep.

---

The tears fall silently once I'm settled in my bunk. Thinking about how much Shawn and I are jeopardizing not only our professional relationship, but our friendship too. I can't be wearing his clothes like it's nothing.

I walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered and the boys all turn to me, Shawn's eyes stay locked on me longer than Brian's or Connor's. And there's no masking the big smile on his face.

"What?" I ask quietly, sitting next to him.

"Nothing, nothing. You just look cozy, that's all." He pulls gently at the strings and boops my nose.

I scrunch up my face and get comfortable in my spot, legs underneath me as I scroll through Instagram.

And I wish I didn't know what Connor was referring to when he said I can't be sitting in Shawn's lap.

But we really did think we were the only ones in the room.

We're in his dressing room and Shawn's pulling his pinky ring on and off his finger over and over again, barely breathing, but letting out a loud sigh when he realizes how long it's been since he last took in air. It's hard to take pictures of him when he's like this. Anxious and fidgety. So I put my camera beside me and take his hands in mine, knowing that physical contact is always what helps calm him down. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"What's wrong, bub?"

He exhaled deeply, letting go of my hands only to place his on my hips, pulling me down to his lap. "I don't know. I just can't think straight." His head leans forward, resting against my chest.

I wrap one arm around the back of his neck and tug softly on the curls on the back of his neck. "Well what are you thinking about?"

After a few seconds of silence, I can hear him mumble into my shirt. "Sound check was a disaster. And I haven't been able to reach my mom all day. My sister went on a date and I swear to god, I will kill that boy if he tries anything with her. And I really miss my dad because he's always telling me that it'll all be alright." He pick his head up, "and have you noticed that Connor's always staring at us when we're together? It's like he has some type of radar up when we're near each other. And he like… doesn't stop until one of us leaves. It's weird right?"

I let out a nervous chuckle, "wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were everywhere."

"Y/n."

"Shh… just close your eyes." I tilt his head back a little bit and get off his lap. He protests though and brings me back, this time straddling him, eyes still closed. I know I should, but I don't fight him on it. "Okay, I'm gonna do this thing my mom used to do when I felt restless as a kid. Just focus on my voice, okay?"

He nods, his hands resting firmly on my hips, keeping me safe against him.

And it's not like we intended to share drinks! We just both ended up getting something the other person liked.

"What'd you get?" Shawn asks, taking a sip of his smoothie, his nose wrinkling a bit after he swallows.

"They said it's piña colada. But all I'm getting is the pineapple. What'd you get?"

"Strawberry kiwi."

"But don't you hate kiwi?" I ask, taking another sip of my drink."

"I'm trying something new. Sue me."

I laugh when he coughs after a large gulp. "You don't like it, do you?"

He shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Want to try mine?"

"Sure," he says and we switch cups. He hums in content, holding the cup just far enough from his face to stare at it the way people apparently do when they try something they like. "This is really good." He drinks a little more and I take the opportunity to try his - which, by the way, I like a lot more.

"If you want it, you can have it," I manage to say with a little smoothie still in my mouth.

"You sure?"

I nod, "I happen to like yours more too."

He just laughs and holds the cup out for us to cheers. I smile knowing I can't deny him. He makes it a point to shout out "Clink!" when our paper cups touch.

"I swear you're six years old," I mumble into the straw.

He mocks a pained expression, hand over his heart. "I am hurt. Truly devastated that you think so little of me."

I shove his shoulder, shaking my head, "Shut up!"

And until Connor brought it up, I didn't think there was anything wrong with the way Shawn and I picked food off each other's plate. We like the same food, it's not like Brian wasn't stealing fries from my plate too. What? Was I suddenly trying to get with him as well?

"Shawn, turn your face to the side real quick," I say, holding my camera up to my eye. He's stuffing an overly ranch covered fry in his mouth, but turns anyway and just as I hear the shutter sound, I reach across the table and steal a fry myself.

"I saw that," he says with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I respond, covering my mouth as I swallow.

"You have your own fries, you know?"

"Ah, yes. But mine are cute and curly, like your hair. While yours are straight and normal, which, if you ask me, always taste better when they're not yours."

"I think all fries taste better when they're not yours. Let's test it, shall we?" He hands me another fry from his plate and takes two from mine. He's nodding before he even puts them in his mouth. "Yep, definitely confirmed."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scold him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he mimics, hands on his hips as if trying to recreate one of the many spongebob memes that have surfaced over the past couple years.

I'm quick to snap a picture of his figure and can't help but laugh out loud when it pops up on my screen.

"You know, I think it's you that makes everything better." He says seriously after I put my camera back down.

"What are you talking about?" I reach for his plate again and he doesn't even try to fight me, doesn't look down at my hand. He's just staring at my face, taking everything in. I suddenly become self conscious under the impromptu surveying he's doing and turn my face away from him to chew.

"Jesus Christ, your beautiful." I don't think he meant for me to hear that, so I pretend that I don't.

And for sure, sharing earbuds isn't flirtatious, right? Connor's just making a big deal out of nothing, trying to make me question everything I do around Shawn as if we aren't functioning adults who can make our own decisions… and mistakes.

"What are you listening to?" Shawn plops down beside me, hair wet from his shower only minutes ago.

"Dive," I mumble, scribbling a couple of sentences down.

"By Ed?"

I only respond with a soft yes because I'm on a roll with the story I'm writing and I know if I stop not I don't get that flow back.

"Can I listen too?"

I take out one earbud and hand it to him, never looking up from my piece of paper. Out of the corner of my eye. I can see him bobbing his head, and since one ear is now free to listen to the world outside of the music in my head, I can hear him tapping the table to the beat.

"Don't tell me you need me… if you don't believe it," he sings to me, holding his hand out to me, like a microphone.

I roll my eyes, but hold onto his hand ready to sing the next line. "Let me know the truth… before I dive right into you."

"I could fall, or I could fly. Here in your aeroplane."

"I could live, I could die, hanging on to words you say."

"I've been known to give my own, sitting back looking at every mess that I've made."

"So don't call me baby… unless you mean it."

We continue alternating lines until the song ends and we have stupid grins on our face despite the judging stares from Mike and Zubin.

I'm smiling like a child when Imagination comes on next and watch as Shawn grows increasingly more red. So I start singing to him.

"I keep craving, craving you. Don't know it,but it's true. Can't get my mouth to say the words they want to say to you."

He's shaking his head and takes out the earbud. I don't stop though. I sing the song, in its entirety to him, laughing continuously through every verse.

I wipe at my, no doubt, puffy eyes and turn on my side, facing say from the curtain.

Falling asleep was never the intention. I fully intended on removing myself from him once the coffee started to kick in. But the coffee never did do that. And I felt myself drifting faster and faster. It wasn't until we were at the radio station that felt a soft pair of lips on my hairline, peppering the skin with gentle, almost nonexistent kisses. "Mea vita, time to wake up, y/n/n."

I grumble softly, lifting my head just enough to rest my forehead on his. Without so much as a second thought, I press a kiss to his cheek, smiling sleepily. "Thanks for being my pillow," I murmur.

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Anytime."

I nudge his cheek with my nose, still half asleep, choosing to ignore that gnawing feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong. Dangerous, even, for our friendship. "Let's get to work, my cute little rockstar."

I sigh deeply. I'm gone for him. Completely. And its gonna hurt like a motherfucker when this spark - that is currently burning like a wildfire inside me - dissipates, leaving nothing but debris and loss in its wake.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

PWY tags: @lifeoftheparty74 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @bodacious-5sos @sweetheartmendes

I hope you guys are enjoying it to far! From now on PWY is updating twice a week! I hope you're ready for this mess.

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

[emperor-lover]

Could you do a college au for sungwoon? He's my bias and no one really writes for him 😭 tysm love UR MINHYUn scenarios are so cute they made me soft

aw anon of course!! I can totally relate about not having many things to read about your bias/bias group as well :( and yaasss i’m glad my Minhyun scenarios are having this effect on people hahaha!! I tried my best, hope you enjoy! x

Ha Sungwoon College!AU

first of all, what. a. cutie.

probably the happiest little bean you know at college

he had gone on a gap year after high school so he was one of the older guys in your cohort but his baby face suggested otherwise

literally everyone thought he was one of those young geniuses that had skipped a couple of years of high school 

he is still pretty much a genius though

He’s a business and marketing major, and he just absorbs all the information in lectures like a sponge

maybe that’s why his spongebob impression is so superior

he’s such a people’s person and is so warm-hearted

everyone has a soft spot for him

heart of gold, so so friendly, to the point where you were pretty sure he was a real life angel

you barely saw him angry or annoyed but you had seen him upset once before because his best friend Taehyun was going on an exchange to a college overseas for the entire sophomore year and Sungwoon had cried in his room and refused to talk to anyone

you first met Sungwoon during orientation week as a freshman/first year

you had gotten kinda lost and overwhelmed by all the hustle bustle of the students around you and your roommate that you met a couple of hours earlier had disappeared amongst the crowd

all these seniors had leapt at the opportunity to convince you to join their clubs or organisations

which left you drowning in a sea of flyers

you tried to get the campus map out of your bag in attempt to find your way back to your room, but your hands were too full so a few pamphlets slipped out of them

as you went to pick them up, Sungwoon had already reached down and gotten them

you thanked him and he had smiled brightly before passing them back to you

“oh hey, I was thinking of joining that club too!” he had gestured to one of the many fliers you were holding

you hadn’t even had time to look at them yet so you had no idea which one he was referring to

“Maybe I’ll see you there!” he had beamed before heading off back into the crowd

you manage to reunite with your roommate after a little bit more searching and you both decided to head back to the dorm

You’re waiting for the lift to reach the ground floor because you refuse to climb 9 flights of stairs

as the door opens you see a familiar face

“Hey it’s you again!”

Sungwoon is standing there with one of your close high school friends, Hwang Minhyun

Minhyun looks between the two, “Sungwoon, you know y/n too?”

“I bumped into them before! They were holding a pamphlet for the ballad club that we were thinking of joining!”

He turns to look at you properly, “I’m Ha Sungwoon, I’m sure we’ll see each other lots this year y/n!”

You’re a bit taken aback by his positivity but it’s in a good way

Like you’ve never met someone with such a nice and welcoming aura

And it turns out that Minhyun and Sungwoon are roommates in the floor above you in the dorm

so you’d literally bump into them all the time

you’d lost count of how many times you’d now bumped into Sungwoon in the lift

He’d nudged your shoulder teasingly

“y/n, you’re not stalking me by any chance are you?”

“I could say the same to you!

After getting to know him you realised that Sungwoon was someone who was prepared for anything and everything

It started raining suddenly? Sungwoon’s got an extra umbrella

Feeling hungry? He’s got a special pocket in his bag full of snacks that could rival Ong Seongwoo’s.

You got a papercut? Sungwoon’s got a plaster, antiseptic, first aid kit, the whole shebang

The thing with Sungwoon though is that because he’s so nice to everyone it was easy to presume that he wasn’t flirting with yu

he’s just being the nice soul that he is

like you just assumed that he was this friendly to every person out there

so you never realised during lectures together last year, you were the source of his distraction

his eyes would wander over to your face admiring you from a distance

if you finished later than him for the day, he’d always wait for you in the library to walk back to the dorms with you

there was one day where your timetable was so packed that you barely had time to eat and Sungwoon had just pushed his lunch towards you insisting that he was full

it wasn’t only one way though, you had always been his biggest supporter

You’d go to all his singing performances, cheering him on loudly from the audience

you’d let him snooze on your shoulder whenever he hadn’t been getting much sleep which was often

so you were always worrying about his health because Sungwoon was someone who always put others before himself

He’s someone that you truly cherish in your life

You weren’t sure about your feelings for him, but after a long conversation with Minhyun, the two of you deduced that you indeed had a huge ass crush on Sungwoon

Minhyun was so fcking pleased because you had always nagged him about his crushes so now he could tease you about this one

And whenever he saw you and Sungwoon hanging out (which is often), he’d make little sassy remarks

“oh, guess I’m third wheeling again today!”

Fast forward to the start of your Junior year, you and Sungwoon had driven into the city to shop for new university supplies

The two of you have got the music turned all the way up and you’re both singing at the top of your lungs

Sungwoon’s phone starts ringing so he turns down the music and presses the answer button on the car dashboard (PSA never drive while using your phone!)

“SUNGWOOOON, where are you man?”

It’s Yoon Jisung, a senior and the ballad club leader

In the background you hear a commotion and snippets of conversation

You can clearly hear Minhyun’s low voice

“Jisung hyung, tell Sungwoon that he can’t come back today until he asks y/n out.”

Your eyes widen and you just look at Sungwoon who has gone a very bright shade of red

“Oh yeah, are you finally going to ask y/n out this year?!”

“I don’t know what’s stopping him, I’ve already told him that y/n likes him!” Hwang Minhyun, you traitor, how could you leak this info

“Because I swear, if I hear you gush over her again this year like you did for the entirety of the past 2 years of college I will banish you from the club”

“It’s getting hard for us Sungwoon, so we have to intervene.”

“Sungwoon?”

“Did he hang up on us? Oi, Ha Sungwoon, answer us!”

You’re still blinking rapidly at this discovery but it’s clear that Sungwoon is more shocked than you are at the current moment

You cough awkwardly and you can practically imagine all the guys on the other end of the phone freeze

“Uh…Sungwoon, i guess….you’re not alone….uh we’ll just…uh hang up now,,”

the line goes dead and the car ride just continues on in uncomfortable silence

you keep your eyes fixed to your hands that are fiddling in your lap not sure what to say

It’s so silent that it’s almost to the point where you feel like it’s suffocating you until Sungwoon finally speaks

“y/n, I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, but I guess seeing as I just got outed by the guys, I may as well come clean…”

He gives you a shy smile before returning his gaze to the road

You’ve actually never seen Sungwoon look so unsure and insecure before

“I really do like you. So much. But I totally get it if you like me as just a friend, i can imagine it’s probably quite awkward for you right now…”

You’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you swear his hands are trembling from his nervousness as his hand tightens its grip on the gear stick of the car

Reaching over, you take his hand in yours and squeeze it gently

“Sungwoon, the feeling’s mutual, i really like you as well, and it’s been a long time too.”

And the sigh of relief that you hear from Sungwoon is the cutest thing ever

He squeezes your hand back, and runs his thumb gently across your knuckles

“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that yourself.”

you guys become the cutest campus couple ever

cute level = legendary

just the fact that you both look out for each other and everyone else around you, makes you such a loveable couple

also Minhyun tries to act all smug because he knew all along that you two were the perfect pair and always tries to take credit for your relationship

“Hwang Gallyang strikes again, I should just drop out and be a fortune teller.” 

And you and Sungwoon are just so done with him, like pls stop third-wheeling our dates hwang, we know you’re loud and proud about being a clairvoyant

but apart from that, you just have such a peaceful and happy relationship that’s full of a lot of adoration and warm hugs and kisses and whisperings of sweet nothings to each other

cries what a wholesome relationship i cant

hey all~! Hope you enjoyed this college!AU - I have a couple of tests at uni next week so posting will slow down a bit, but I have a few drafts that I’m excited to update and show to you all! Please look forward to them

[swordwhale]

Stardate: 2020.04.12

  It is, according to the traditions of my Lutheran ancestors, Easter Morning. That’s the river I grew up on, with new Easter outfits in pastel colors (I loathe pastels), big baskets of chocolate (the Gift of the Goddess), Lutheran voices lifted in a kind of solemn dirge, and Sunday services about resurrection and redemption and Life reinventing itself in the form of a guy named Jesus. He had some things to teach humans, a lot of it seems to have been misinterpreted or forgotten. But that’s a discussion for another time.

I’ve paddled, sailed and swum many other rivers since. They all lead to the sea.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Fyrdraca under sail on the 6 day voyage

Sae Hrafn under full sail

when you need a smaller boat

This year, we are in the midst of the latest Plague. Anybody remember the Spanish Flu of 1918? The Black Plague of the Middle Ages? The Serum Run of 1925? I knew a lady who survived the Polio epidemic. And met folks suffering through aids. Humans survived all those, enough of us to explode our population again and wreak some more havoc on our ecosystem.

We”ll probably survive it again, hopefully a bit wiser.

Meanwhile, the birds are singing, my cat is in the window singing the ek-ek-ek song at the birbs, the forsythias and daffodowndillies are doing their yellow fireworks, and some fifty foot tall thing is flowering… cough…snort….sneeze. The grass is green enough the ponies are ignoring the hay stuffed into slow feed hay bags and chomping off the quarter inch of new green they can get their teeth on.

My paddocks are set up for ponies, who cannot be on lush grass without foundering or colicking. They are annoyed. But healthy. I heard spring peepers over my friend’s phone (peeper frogs love swamps, I don’t have any, I do have tree frogs). The hawks and owls are busy trying to catch new spring bunnies.

Shuri

Toothless on the banks of the Sassafras River MD

Nightcrawler and Shuri

chickory

Bunnies. I got bunnies. Lots of bunnies. The Eastern Cottontail is native, but the Easter Bunny apparently came here with my German ancestors, in the 1700s. They had a tradition of an egg laying hare called Osterhase or Oster Haws. Kids made nests in which the bunny could lay its colored eggs.

The origin of the Easter Bunny as symbol of spring (and hence, Easter) lies far in the pre-Christian past of Europe. “One theory is that the symbol of the rabbit stems from pagan tradition, specifically the festival of Eostre…a goddess of fertility whose animal symbol was a bunny. Rabbits, known for their energetic breeding, have traditionally symbolized fertility.”

In Christian tradition, Easter is about resurrection. The rabbit “resurrects” its life by reproducing yet more rabbits… the base of the food chain… thus giving life to all in the spring. In PA, Great Horned Owls are sitting on the nest while it is still cold and snowy. The young owls hit the ground at the same time the first new rabbits are emerging, ensuring better survival.

A hare and a rabbit are two different things. Related, but different. As different as sheep and goats. They are both mammals (class) of the order Lagomorpha of the family Leporidae. You can remember the taxonomy, without King Philip, by repeating Krabby Patties Cook On Fry Grills Spongebob. Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species.

There is also: Kangaroos Paddling Canoes On Fairly Gentle Streams.

After the Fried bit (Leporidae) hares and rabbits diverge into different genuses and species. The main bits to know are: rabbits (like pet rabbits and the Eastern Cottontails in my yard) are born blind and naked in a nest or burrow… the Eastern Cottontail is unique in its use of a shallow bowl rather than an underground burrow… has short ears, is compact and cuddly (don’t, they die easily of shock), social. Hares are longer, leggier, have bigger ears, and do not burrow. Their “leverets” pretty much hit the ground running, like a foal: born with all their fur and ready to go. “Hare-brained” and “mad as a March hare” refer to the hare’s lightning quick reflexes and speed… necessary for a prey item living in the open. The western jackrabbit is a hare. It’s so large that it gave rise to its own myth, the jackalope: “around here the hares are so big they mate with antelope”.

When I was a kid, every store had chicks, dyed in bright colors, to sell individually as pets. The ones that survived chickhood (several of mine did not, ugh) grew up to be chickens, a useful birb, but often ended up at a relative’s farm, or on the table.

Nowadays Tractor Supply has a rule that you have to buy a certain number. No chicks as pets. You must be a real farmer. Good rule, chickens aren’t that hard to raise, but you do need to have a clue. And dyeing them was never a good idea. My cousin just got some…

Cous: “I’ll take 20…”

TSC Guy: “ if you take all 40 I’ll give you a price break”…

They now have 40 chicks. Most will make it to egg laying status. The excess roosters will become fried chicken. That’s the thing. You often buy them in lots, unsexed. You have no idea if hens or roosters. Roosters do not lay eggs. The point here is egg layers. Poor roosters. I remember my Grandpa’s farm, it was terrifying to go “out back” because of the mean roosters. Even my friend with her own farm carried a big stick to do kung fu blocks on exuberant Foghorn Leghorns. Roosters are, however, one of the most gorgeous birds on the planet. The colors and flowing feathers rival any parrot or bird of paradise. Hei Hei, in Disney’s Moana, represented on of the finer aspects of the chicken: its portability. Even the Polynesians, the most fantastic navigators and explorers the planet has ever seen, carried chickens across the vast reaches of the Pacific Ocean.

Eggs… I adore eggs. My relatives made red beet eggs: red beets, vinegar, sugar, some cooking. The result is a brilliant purpley red egg, red all the way to the yolk, with a sharp, sweet flavor. I modified the recipe for simplicity: red wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar, a can of beets with juice, pour into quart mason jar, drop in hard boiled eggs. In 3 days perfect eggs.

There are also Church Lady Eggs. In March, Church Ladies from all over bake chocolate and peanut butter or chocolate and coconut eggs. They are usually the size of a real chicken egg, and far better than commercially made chocolate. Despite the Plague, local stores, like Ace Hardware, had boxes of them!

  Meanwhile, the night before Easter, all through the barnyard, not a creature was stirring, not even a…

wait, is that a late evening bunbun?

A small quick bit of shadowy motion, darting out from under the hay shed, to where Goliath had dribbled some of his feed. Nibble nibble, dart, duck…

The motion was not lagomorphic. It was not bun bunish. It was low and flowy.

Oh hey, there’s my Rat.

The Rat had left calling cards on the hay bales in the shed weeks back. Living under my hay, shed, fine. We are out here, not in the house, the feed bins are secured and made of metal. Pooping on my hay bales is Not Cool though, so I bought a rat sized trap. I never deployed it.

Now Le Rat is zooming around on Easter Eve, cleaning up Golli’s leftovers. I had pet rats in the past, they are smart, social, interesting critters. They have a complicated history with humans. They carried Plague fleas. They raided food stores. They became food. In the wild, they are an important part of the ecosystem like all creatures. I have round bale now. Less opportunity for pooping upon.

Do I set my trap?

Do I end a life that’s just trying to thrive?

Is it doing me harm?

I watched Rat trundle in and out from under the shed and snatch bits of Golli’s leftovers, cleaning up the mess. A small life just making its way like the rest of us.

Carry on little fur beast.

Let this be a new start for all of us.

The Power of Hope: DO this at home…

At the UU online service this am, Matt did a neat science experiment. A sunken carrot in a glass of water. It sinks. Add “hope”… a teaspoon of salt. Stir. It rises slightly then sinks.

Add more salt. Rise… sink… but slower.

Add more hope/salt.

A bit more. Stir. The carrot slowly rises… and floats.

Hope floats.

The Easter Rat, Church Lady Eggs and other wonders Stardate: 2020.04.12 It is, according to the traditions of my Lutheran ancestors, Easter Morning. That's the river I grew up on, with new Easter outfits in pastel colors (I loathe pastels), big baskets of chocolate (the Gift of the Goddess), Lutheran voices lifted in a kind of solemn dirge, and Sunday services about resurrection and redemption and Life reinventing itself in the form of a guy named Jesus.

[funface2]

The Area 51 meme and the strange, winding tale of Matty Roberts – Vox.com

RACHEL, Nevada — For the mess he’s found himself in, Matty Roberts is surprisingly calm.

One night in late June, Roberts was up late scrolling on Facebook. That is his wont; a 21-year-old college kid who lives with his parents in Bakersfield, California, he spends a lot of time online in anime and video gaming communities. And most of all, Roberts is into shitposting, trading in a genre of particularly silly memes that’s especially popular on Facebook. The posts can range from a SpongeBob screenshot that makes a joke about the cartoon character getting stoned, to a fart noise-laden remix of Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy” video.

Roberts runs a small Facebook page called “Shitposting cause I’m in shambles,” which scratches his meme-seeking itch. He not only shares posts he sees and likes; he creates his own. And that June night, he posted something different than just an image macro-referencing a cartoon or existing online goof. He decided to create a Facebook event as the stage for his joke; it went on to strike a chord with millions.

He called it “Storm Area 51, They Can’t Stop All of Us.” Inspired by the covert Nevada military base that many have long believed to be some kind of alien testing ground or site where the government is investigating unidentified aerial phenomena, he proposed gathering as many people as possible on September 20 to cross the fenced-off land. “Let’s see them aliens,” the event description implored.

Within days, nearly a million people had signed on — either in jest or in earnest. Not long after that, the military got involved.

Roberts’s shitpost had quickly, surprisingly, caused a stir that was at once hilarious and very serious. To date, 3 million Facebook users have showered Roberts’s prank event page with international attention, playing into its tongue-in-cheek recognition of the government secrecy and extraterrestrial ties that Area 51 represents in popular culture. But as online jokes spread about bringing home aliens from a locked-down military base, “Storm Area 51” bled into real life. A spokesperson for the Air Force ominously warned people against approaching the base’s borders. Media outlets fought to interview Roberts and reported on his meme as if it were an impending catastrophe.

It has also triggered preparations for a state of emergency in two Nevada counties and generated more alien merch than anyone could ever want. Most of all, the meme has thrust Roberts, a long-haired, laid-back bro, into a national spotlight he probably didn’t deserve — or into the center of a debacle involving a rural town, the federal government, a business partner, a cease-and-desist order, and frequent evocations of Fyre Festival. Depends on who you ask.

“It’s not daunting at all,” Roberts says, with no small amount of hubris. As interest swelled, he took it upon himself to put on a legitimate Area 51 event — 148 miles away from Rachel, back in Las Vegas. “There is a little bit of pressure, but at the same time, it’s an exciting kind of pressure. It’s amazing.”

In the two months since he posted his open invitation, Roberts has become the self-proclaimed face of a live festival dubbed Alienstock. This weekend, real people are showing up for it.

Storm Area 51 was an obvious joke — one that tapped into the internet’s love for memes and easily repeatable humor and coalesced into something much bigger: competing festivals for UFO conspiracy theorists, fans of shitposting, and small-town Nevada locals.

By boosting Roberts’s profile, the event has become more than a gag. It is now, as Roberts says, a “brand.” Not to mention a potential crisis. (Alienstock may not be this year’s Fyre Festival, but rampant opportunism is threatening to bring it close.)

And Storm Area 51 has become emblematic of the cycle of fame in 2019: It was born of the internet, turned a random college kid from Bakersfield into a national figure overnight, and is so meta that it can barely be understood by those outside of it and the world it was born of.

“It plays perfectly into the shitposting culture, and it also plays perfectly into the genuine conspiracy theorists,” Roberts says. “I think it created the perfect storm.”

The inspiration for Roberts’s event was a Joe Rogan Experience interview that Roberts watched this summer, featuring Area 51 obsessive and self-proclaimed whistleblower Bob Lazar, a supposed ex-government engineer who has dubiously claimed to have worked on alien technology near the Air Force site. On the show, Lazar recounted what he claims is the extraterrestrial history of the base. But Roberts wasn’t taking Lazar too seriously: “First and foremost,” he says of his Facebook page, “It’s a shitposting page.”

Barbed wire and signage border a gate of the Nevada Test and Training Range, commonly referred to as Area 51, near Rachel, Nevada, on September 13, 2019.

Bridget Bennett/AFP/Getty Images

After his meme went viral, Roberts saw an opening to take the event’s notoriety and turn it into offline fame. He could become more than a screen name; he could become the face of 2019’s biggest meme. Better yet, maybe he could even make money off it.

“The whole Alienstock, Storm Area 51 thing is something that is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I feel like not taking advantage of this diving board that I’ve been given is just wasted,” Roberts says. “So I might as well move forward with it.”

Moving forward in this case initially meant directing people to the town of Rachel, Nevada, home to just 54 people, most of them retirees. Rachel’s claim to fame is that it lies just 30 miles north of Area 51, making it the closest possible gathering point for potential Area 51 raiders. (“You really won’t need a map to find places in Rachel,” the town’s slightly cynical website notes.) Roberts hooked up with the town’s sole local business, a lodge called the Little A’Le’Inn, to plan Alienstock as a Burning Man-style EDM music festival. As many as 30,000 attendees, who had already booked rooms nearby or expressed interest in driving up, were expected.

The seams started to show soon after Roberts announced Alienstock in late July. Selling tickets to an event loosely inspired by a meme suggested a shift from the ironic and self-effacing to the self-aggrandizing and profiteering — Alienstock was to be a weekend-long experience in the middle of nowhere, with parking and camping spaces costing between $60 and $140, all in order to see unnamed EDM acts and … get stoked about aliens? Roberts and the Little A’Le’Inn’s proprietor, Connie West, made few other promises.

Comparisons to Fyre Festival, the 2017 music festival-turned-criminal case, came fast, including from the citizens of Rachel itself. In mid-August, they presented a list of concerns to the commissioners of Lincoln County, Nevada, in an emphatic plea for help in preventing Alienstock from happening:

The main event organizer is a 20-year old kid. The media already likens this to the 2017 Fyre festival disaster where people paid a lot of money for a concert weekend that never happened. There are still many open law suits from that event.

An event with that many people typically takes 6-8 months to plan. The county and Rachel had 6 weeks.

Commissioners, please ask yourself: Do you really think sufficient planning has been done to be ready for this event? This can potentially ruin our county if it goes bad. It certainly will ruin Rachel.

Lincoln County Sheriff Kerry Lee told Vox in early September that the cash-strapped county was looking at spending as much as $300,000 providing additional law enforcement to support Rachel and other nearby towns during the weekend, all for an expected influx of visitors who might be looking to tempt fate by charging into Air Force territory.

“My staff has been inundated with phone calls and working on this,” Lee said. “We had to work on a law enforcement plan, communications plan, medical plan, mass casualty plan, active shooter plan — all these plans we have to put into place before this thing happens.”

He sounded exhausted. “I spend almost 100 percent of my day doing Area 51 stuff.”

A sign about the joke event Storm Area 51 hangs outside the Little A’Le’Inn information center and inn in Rachel, Nevada, on September 13, 2019.

Bridget Bennett/AFP/Getty Images

Meanwhile, Roberts and West still hadn’t offered concrete details on what visitors could expect during Alienstock, which was then set to take place September 20–22 in Rachel. Roberts had shifted away from encouraging a security breach at Area 51 and instead began offering Alienstock as counter-programming to storming the military facility. (Thankfully, he recognized the dangers of trying to raid the base. The Air Force is not playing around.)

Roberts drove to Rachel from Southern California two weeks early and posted selfies. He tweeted about anime and UFC. And he insisted that Alienstock — and he, Matty Roberts — was a brand Area 51 believers would want to buy into.

“Alienstock has always been more of a cultural movement,” said Roberts. “It was born out of the curiosity of the internet and the curiosity surrounding aliens, UFOs, everything like that, and just wanting to gather and throw cool parties.”

It’s that desire to “throw cool parties” that has inflated Roberts’s profile to troublingly unstable heights. Days after arriving in Rachel, Roberts announced that he and Alienstock had parted ways with West and the Little A’Le’Inn. He blamed a lack of “critical infrastructure” and a fear that, in West’s care, the event could become “a possible humanitarian disaster.”

“I had to try to remove any kind of association from it because I don’t want my brand, and I don’t want my face, to be associated with something as disastrous as Fyre Festival 2.0,” Roberts said. “And it could have been even worse than that with the location, the military base right there, and just the sheer controversy behind the thing. So with everything presented and not enough security or anything like that, I had no choice but to kind of try to wash my hands of the whole thing.”

Despite weeks of warnings that Rachel, Nevada, couldn’t handle an event of any size, a pre-signed state of emergency declaration (another one soon followed), and a non-existent event schedule, it took Roberts until the eleventh hour to move the event to a safer location.

He signed on to co-host an Area 51-themed party at the Downtown Las Vegas Event Center on September 19 with Bud Light as a sponsor. Alienstock — or at least, the spirit of Storm Area 51 that had driven it — was dead.

Instead, the party featured hula hoopers in neon outfits, and a few signs and shirts referencing the meme. The attendees — who could best be described as scattered — clutched cans of watery beer emblazoned with alien imagery. Though he reportedly made a brief appearance, a reporter attending the event noted that Roberts was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, West, of the Little A’Le’Inn, insisted she would still host some kind of event in Rachel, however, with bands who will play for free. Roberts has served her with a cease-and-desist notice.

The breakdown in West’s and Roberts’s partnership is just a sliver of the drama that has ensued from the moment that Roberts declared his intent to prolong the Storm Area 51 meme. And it’s not just between Roberts and West; alien and UFO enthusiasts see Roberts as a negative presence in their communities, too.

Matty Roberts moved his Alienstock festival from its original planned location in Rachel, Nevada, to the Downtown Las Vegas Events Center at the last minute.

Ethan Miller/Getty Images

One of Roberts’s most vocal critics is the documentarian Jeremy Corbell, who happened to be a guest on that Joe Rogan podcast episode Roberts first watched. Corbell, who had spent the last seven years following Bob Lazar and spreading what they say is the word of truth about Area 51, is a passionate believer in UFO technology and greatly distrusts the government. For Corbell, the interest in Roberts’s Storm Area 51 meme reflects a huge moment — for his work, for ufology, for anyone who will entertain him or Lazar.

But Roberts, he says, is undermining all of that.

“When you’ve got the microphone, you have a responsibility to act in the same way that you talk,” Corbell says. “And if you are really concerned about safety, then you need to inform people and put aside personal gain.”

Corbell and Roberts’ relationship, according to Corbell, is a tenuous one; Corbell says that the kid from Bakersfield created Alienstock “on the sly or to the left.” And he thinks Roberts is turning this flashpoint for discussion of UFOs into a potential train wreck. Days before Alienstock was set to take place, two YouTubers jumped the gun and were arrested for trying to reach Area 51 on their own.

“This is far beyond a meme and alien Budweiser [beer]. This opportunity is far beyond that,” Corbell says. “It’s a cultural and social movement that has been going on for 30 years, since May 13, 1989,” the date that Bob Lazar first spoke out about the existence of Area 51. “Period. Full stop.”

Yet were Roberts and West really the only ones acting in their own self-interest? Corbell is also benefiting from Roberts’s mess. The more we talk about Storm Area 51 — positively or negatively — the more we push the names of Jeremy Corbell and Bob Lazar, as well as Connie West and Matty Roberts, into the public’s consciousness. Rachel, Nevada? At one point, the town was selling Storm Area 51 T-shirts on its website.

Perhaps that’s why Matty Roberts is so calm despite the chaos he’s created. No matter what happens, he’s coming out of this as someone greater than a kid with a shitposting Facebook page and fewer than 1,000 Twitter followers. He’ll be that Area 51 guy, for better or worse.

For now, he’s taking a semester off school to work on Alienstock’s future, but when he goes back, he says, he might switch his major to marketing. He’d probably be darn good at it, too.

An Extraterrestrial Highway sign posted along State Route 375 in Rachel, Nevada, on July 22, 2019.

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Bài viết The Area 51 meme and the strange, winding tale of Matty Roberts – Vox.com đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

from Funface https://funface.net/funny-memes/the-area-51-meme-and-the-strange-winding-tale-of-matty-roberts-vox-com/

[weregonnaneedabiggerblog-blog1]

South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut (1999); The “TV Show: The Movie” that Pushed its Source Material into the Future

There was a time where “TV Show: The Movie” movies had broken into the mainstream, and not always for the better. Starting around 1998 with the release of “Rugrats: The Movie”, which went on to become the first Non-Disney animated movie to gross over $1,000,000, company executives and Hollywood producers alike took note and suddenly a big-budgeted wild fire tore through the vast forest that was television; “Recess: School’s Out”, “Hey Arnold! The Movie”, a trilogy of Pokémon movies, “The PowerPuff Girls Movie”, “The Wild Thornberry Movie”, “The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie, even the most obscure cartoons of the time like Disney ‘s “Teacher’s Pet” took a try at becoming the next box-office phenomenon. From 1998 – 2004 alone, 15 movies were produced based on television cartoons, almost all of which were just clear cash-grabs to capitalise not only on the brand’s popularity, but the success of "Rugrats: The Movie", and most often, the quality reflected the profit. Whilst a majority of them did make back their budget and then some, barely any were competing with the numbers shown by the Rugrats a few years prior.

  I feel that was because audiences quickly grew accepting of what the quality of the majority of these films would be; just nothing more than a feature length episode of the show that didn’t take any advantage of what the film medium could offer. Regardless however, at this time, “South Park” creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone, not being one to not just aboard an opportunity to cause a ruckus in the media, took it upon themselves to bring their ever-so controversial cartoon about the residents of a small Colorado town with a vast catalogue of bad language to the big screen.

  In 1999, the two released into cinema what I still believe to be one of the boldest and most important steps the South Park series had to take in order to be where it lies today; By taking everything that worked about the show, and using every advantage the film medium could give to make one of the most simultaneously funny, vulgar, offensive and yet smart animated films ever made.

  After their favourite Canadian TV starts Terrance and Philip release their feature film debut “Asses of Fire”, young South Park residents Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny (all voiced by Stone and Parker) become fixated with the movie’s offensive language, with the starts often referring to each other as “Pig Fucker” or “Uncle Fucker” When this language interferes with the boys’ lives, primarily when Cartmans tells his teacher to “suck my balls” or when Kenny kills himself trying to set his fart on fire like Terrance and Philip do in the movie, the parents of the town start a protest group which starts as an attempt to get the film banned in the United States, that very quickly spirals out of control and leaves Kyle’s mom arresting the controversial duo and becoming President Clinton’s Secretary of Offence as the country declares war on Canada. With only two days before Terrence and Philip are executed, the children of South Park quickly scramble to find of a way to show their parents that they’ve got too far, whilst their deceased friend Kenny also tries to warn them of how the day of Terrance and Philip’s death was prophesised by Satan himself to be the day he returns to bring 1000 years of darkness unto the Earth.

  As you may have been able to gather from that plot summary alone, there are a lot of views and themes going on throughout this movie’s short 76 minute runtime (a length I personally believe plays well into the “Bigger, Longer & Uncut” subtitle of the movie. Aside from the obvious circumcision joke) Perhaps the film’s biggest statement is not-only ironic but contradictory method the children’s parents have in tacking “Asses of Fire” and its obscene content. Rather than taking more interest in what their children can and can’t watch for example, they instead feel the need to put the blame not only on the creators of the movie, but their country of origin instead (perhaps also a metaphor for the blame people put on a country rather than just those responsible. This film did release a year after the 1998 United States Embassy Bombings and does feature a deceased Saddam Hussein as Satan’s emotionally abusive lover after all). These parents getting radical over obscene language could also clearly stem from the controversy “South Park” itself was facing at the time with parental groups during its original 3 season airing, back when the show’s animation was the cardboard cut-out equivalent to an early 2000s flash animation on Newgrounds.com. This point is very interesting to me as not only does it act as Matt Stone and Trey Parker’s “meditation” so-to-speak about all the attention they had created for their show, but it also marks them doing it in a much more mature way

  At least, as mature as a show like South Park can be.

  Rather than have the victims of their cynicism be wild, screaming idiots like the earlier seasons of the shows often portrayed them as (still to a funny extent, mind you.), the movie often portray the antagonists, such as Kyle’s mom, as being so self-sure that they are completely blind to the true consequences of their actions. A perfect example of which is seen in the musical number “Blame Canada”, which has a chorus consisting of the protesting, parents chanting:

  “Blame Canada

  Blame Canada

  We need to form a full assault

  Its Canada’s fault!”

  That’s another thing I failed to mention. This film is a straight up comedy-musical. Decades before they showed many their talent at catchy musical writing with their Broadway show “The Book of Mormon”, Matt Stone and Trey Parker wrote a grand total of ten original songs, preforming almost all of them as well, for a South Park movie of all things. Regardless, almost every song on the soundtrack is hilarious and ridiculously catchy, with some of my personal favourites being the before mentioned “Blame Canada”, as well as Terrance and Philip’s lead single in the movie “Uncle Fucka”, Principal Teacher Mr. Mackey’s lesson on alternatives to swearing “It’s Easy, M’kay” and Satan’s solo number “Up There”, which hilariously is the only original song on the soundtrack to have no swearing despite it being performed by the prince of darkness himself.

  Despite the before mentioned accolades, there are a few gripes I have with the movie that keep it from being the almost perfect movie I feel it so desperately wanted to be. For one thing, the entire “Satan will rule the Earth upon T&P’s death” subplot only really added up to Satan standing up to Saddam and his emotional abuse he gave (again, something pretty funny for the prince of darkness to endure), and that school teacher Mr. Garrison’s hand puppet, Mr. Hat, replaces Saddam.

In fact, almost the entirety of the ending does feel very rushed.

On the night of Terrance and Philip’s broadcasted electrocution, complete with a pre-show performance by South Park resident Big Gay Al, the kids with the assistance of a small French child known as “Ze Mole”, whose accent and extreme hatred for God make him one of South Park’s best one-off characters, attempt to save the Canadian comedians, only for an ambush by the Canadian Army and a resulting firefight to result in their death, unleashing Satan, Saddam and all of Hell onto the Earth. In almost no time at all, Satan realises how Saddam has used him and casts him back to the fires of Hell, calling off his attack in the process (Oh, and Kenny’s face is finally revealed. Surprise! He looks just like all the other characters in the show except with blond hair) Sheila and the parents realise how they went too far and all is forgiven as the town reprises the opening song. All of which take place in the span of 5 – 10 minutes. Whether this was due to Stone and Parker not having any more funny material, wanting the film to conclude with the same cheeriness of the opening (hence the reprise) or just simply not knowing how else to end it aside from, well, ending it.

  Regardless of an ending that could have done much more than what it did I fell, the rest of this movie is almost flawless. Some may complain about the crude, cardboard cut-out artstyle and the resulting stiffness of movement, but honestly, I think it just adds so much more the film’s crudeness. Aside from that, almost every single joke, from the recurring gags from the show to what is newly presented, had me having at very least a snort and at most uncontrollable laughter. All of which is captured by the amazingly funny music and solid performances, even from the most unlikely of celebrity cameos, such as George Clooney as the doctor trying to save Kenny’s life. This film, like the show, is definitely an acquired taste. If you’re willing to possibly have your beliefs mocked however, you just may find something in this almost perfect TV-to-movie adaptation.

[sloanecore]

hey whats up taz fandom can we chat

hey yall can we talk abt lesbophobia for a hot second bc it has been uhhh disturbingly prevalent lately. i just wanna preface this by saying i absolutely welcome feedback + don’t claim to speak for anyone else. if you have thoughts on this i’d love to hear them + possibly have a discussion.

so here’s the thing: there’s been an Uncomfortable amount of lesbophobia in the TAZ fandom lately in 2 distinct ways. #1 is, of course, the Lup discourse. I KNOW I KNOW you feel a creeping sense of dread at the very words but hear me out for a second.

here’s my hot take: her sexuality hasn’t been confirmed and anyone can have whatever headcanons they want without people slamming them up until her sexuality gets confirmed (if it ever does). before i delve into how lesbophobia has starred in this particular discourse, let me get something out of the way that may raise a few eyebrows at first:

blupjeans isn’t canon (yet).

 do i think it will be? yeah probably. is it as of yet? big fat nope! we know barry has feelings for lup. we know lup trusts him. we do NOT know if lup has romantic feelings for him. she told taako to trust him, she put a friendly arm around him in a portrait that she didn’t pose for that was painted before she knew he had feelings for her, and she picked up his glasses. it isn’t canon yet, and insisting that it is is dumb and a waste of time because it contributes nothing to this discussion.

Anyway! on to the main point. i headcanon lup as a lesbian. hi! what’s up, how ya doin. i’m a lesbian who loves projecting. most of my TAZ friends are in the same boat. none of us have made any posts, messaged each other, or anything of the like about disliking bi/pan lup HCs because—news flash—we don’t dislike them. we think they’re awesome. lesbians and bi/pan women aren’t “natural enemies” like some of you seem to want them to be.

but you know what i have seen? a RIDICULOUS amount of posts—a lot of them from people who aren’t even gay/bi/pan women—decrying lesbian lup HCs, talking about how much they hate them, how entitled and whiney the people who have them (lesbians) are, and like, listen. I get it. every fandom needs its opportunity to Let It Out re: hatred of the Big Bad Dykes. but it’s getting ridiculous.

if your reasoning for why lesbians can’t HC lup as gay is because she’s “been involved with/is involved with a man” (which, still, unconfirmed) surprise! that’s lesbophobic. plenty of lesbians (hi! me! what up!) have had past relationships with men due to compulsory heterosexuality. this doesn’t make us “not gay” and it super sucks for non-lesbians to try to enforce the toxic gold-star mentality that we as a community have spent so long fighting to move past.

lesbians having lesbian headcanons for characters with unconfirmed sexualities/straight characters harms no one and does not nullify bi/pan headcanons that people might have for the same character. We Can Get Along it’s not as hard as y’all are making this!

also, a lot of the justifications for trashing lesbian lup headcanons i’ve seen have included something along the lines of “all the other girls in TAZ are lesbians” “there’s a ton of lesbian representation in TAZ” “this is the PERFECT opportunity to HC a character as bi.” which. okay.

1: no. 0 characters have been Confirmed as lesbians. zero, zilch, nada. as it stands, taako is the only character with a confirmed sexuality. there’s confirmed WLW for sure! but No confirmed lesbians.

2: nope again! what is this in reference to, the side couple that’s barely mentioned or the dead ones?

3: hoo boy! here’s the thing: the other women in relationships in TAZ have been in relationships with other women. lup is the first to be implied to be involved with a man. none of the canon WLW in TAZ are canonically confirmed lesbians. there is and has been nothing stopping anyone from HC’ing sloane, hurley, killian, or carey as bi or pan. if lup is “the perfect opportunity” because she’s maybe involved with a man and you’re subconsciously making that a prerequisite for Good Bi Rep, that’s a You problem that you need to unpack on your own without dragging lesbians into it!

if you can tweet all day about how lesbians allegedly think lup being with barry is “not queer enough” (no one alive has ever said that and also that’s its own special flaaaavor of lesbophobia, so thanks) but you automatically consider a woman whose only canonically shown relationship was with another woman to be a lesbian, that says more about you and you should probably examine that before you project your weird insecurities onto your imagined Enemy Dykes. i know it’s easy to impulse hate us, but here’s a thought: Fucking Chill Dude

Alright!! onto the second Big TAZ Lesbophobia: objectification!!!!!!!

let me set the stage. eh-hem.

Years ago, lesbians in fandom said “Gee, I wish people would stop ignoring us!” And the monkey paw curled one finger, and the TAZ fandom was born.

i see posts Every Goddamn Day about how the whole TAZ fanbase are toxic homophobic fetishizers of MLM and to an extent i understand where that anger comes from because MLM fetishization is a pervasive issue in fandom (though the specific Issue addressed in most of those posts makes me fall asleep instantly because it isn’t even deep enough to drown in). but the thing that really gets me is that the authors of those posts—and like, a good 80% of the fandom in general—objectifies WLW to an OUTRAGEOUS extent and it is honestly hilarious for them to be getting on a soapbox about how shipping certain characters is homophobic while perpetuating almost that exact issue with WLW as their puppets.

i don’t know when lesbians and having a new wacky ~cute~ f/f pairing (between characters who have never spoken and never will) every hour on the hour became the Hot New Trend, but as a lesbian, It Kind Of Fucking Sucks Guys!!! we aren’t dolls. we aren’t your Pure Soft UwU playthings that you can jam into any pairing you want to make wildly OOC art of them braiding each others’ hair in the moonlight or whatever. if you’re a nonlesbian/non-WLW and you have 18 ships with the same 4 girls or you reblog posts like the “luptroth is the new ship” post (altho hey at least those two have fuckin Spoken), You’re A Fucking Geek and Very Annoying and i also probably feel unsafe or at the very least uncomfortable with you!

instead of pouring your energy into f/f crackships (get off your high horse, you aren’t ‘creating representation,’ you know damn well that isn’t how that works) maybe you could create some more fucking content for the two (2!!!! one of whom is UHHH dead!) canon f/f ships that we have—*spongebob “AND LIVE” voice* AND NOT AS THE BACKGROUND PAIRING TO A M/M FIC!!!!

also, quick note before i finish, stop using the futch scale to refer to nonlesbians/if you aren’t a lesbian you freaks it’s For Lesbians. bye

[yoongiminccino]

it's so hard to make yourself appear appealing when in reality you aren't and never will be. but then you add social anxiety to the mix and you have a fucking disaster :/

[dr-pokemon]

Anniversary N sees my regular N and Ghetsis.

Anniversary N: Black, white, and gray. Finally we are complete and whole

N: Truth, ideals, and everything in between. Truly fantastic.

Ghetsis: THIS IS THE PML, NOT A PHILOSOPHY CLASS YOU MONSTERS. AT LEAST I CAN FINALLY TAKE OVER THE WORLD WHEN I GET ME HANDS ON YOUR POKÉMON YOU FREAKS.

My gen 5 protagonists: How many times must we teach you this lesson old man. (Proceeds to beat him again).

[daniellecauchi-blog]

What I’ve Learned About Music Journalism

“WHAT I’VE LEARNED IN BOATING SCHOOL IS...”

Truth be told, there’s no actual reason behind the Spongebob reference other than the fact that the scene kept playing in my head as I typed out the title. 

But there is some relevance in the scene itself when I really think about it. Spongebob struggled to put together a ten word sentence summarising what he had learned in boating school. Arguably, that could have been because he was Mrs Puff’s worst student in all of Bikini Bottom’s history, but I highly doubt a student who has repeated that many times would not have gained at least some insight into the wild waters of boating. 

Maybe I’m over-analysing an immature children’s cartoon, but I see the struggle. I debated whether I should write this blog post as I have learned so much about journalism (and the music journalism subcategory) over these past few weeks and I doubted that I could condense it all. Partly due to the fact that I have learned quite a bit, but also a consequence of my tendency to babble way too much (clearly).

To divert from the Spongebob analogy and get to the surface of the ocean floor, here are a few things I have learned about the wonderful world of music journalism. 

1. Don’t be tone-deaf.

It’s important to do your research and get to know the tone you will need to adapt for the particular website prior to writing. If my blog was an informative website focused on delivering current news to its readers, I wouldn’t have spent the initial portion of this blog post rambling on about Spongebob Squarepants. 

If I wrote for Music Insight with the same tone I implement for my advertising/marketing/promotional work for CosmeticCapital, my pieces would sound more like I was selling the music rather than reporting about it. I write in a fun and quirky style for CosmeticCapital to reach all ages in our wide demographic; Informative enough to reach the older audiences but interesting enough to grasp the attention of teenagers. Music Insight targets the alternative/indie crowd and writes in a much more sophisticated manner which completely contrasts from the style I’m accustomed to writing in, hence why it was so beneficial for me to read previous works on the website to get some insight into how they would have wanted me to write my articles. Because I did this initial research, my writings were immediately well-received as they fit the brand seamlessly. 

2. Be willing to learn (and to research). 

I applaud the editing team at Music Insight as they e-mail the edits of the written pieces to the contributors to give them an awareness of what needed rewording, what was removed, what was switched around, etc. Editors are incredibly busy refining works and keeping their websites updated so the fact that they send out these edits is amazing as far as I’m concerned. Skimming through these edits has really helped me when it comes to writing my pieces for the website as I’ve become fully aware of the structure and style they’re looking for. I’ve always struggled with receiving constructive criticism. I’m a major perfectionist and my philosophy has always been to practise a song a thousand times to the point of laryngitis so that the performance is too perfect to criticise. The same goes for any other endeavour in my life. Opening myself up to constructive criticism or words of advice from editors is extremely challenging for me. In journalism, you have to churn works out with efficiency. There’s no time to spend second-guessing your article for days on end. Thankfully, my time at CosmeticCapital has given me some resilience in that regard so it wasn’t as difficult clicking send on those e-mails and anxiously awaiting the responses from the editors at Music Insight. Constructive criticism is a good thing. It helps you learn and progress. Accepting it and taking it in your stride is an essential skill and I’m so glad I’ve gotten better at living and learning rather than dwelling on every single error, regardless of how minuscule.  

Aside from learning from your mistakes, a huge portion of learning in journalism comes from the research. You should be putting in the extra miles to research beyond the information, press releases and other writing materials that are sent to you. Information can change so research is one way to ensure that your piece is up to date and includes the facts you may have otherwise missed, had you not made the effort to research further. Research is also important for ensuring that your sources of information are 100% accurate and that you aren’t publishing any false or fabricated statements. 

It’s also extremely important to research the terminology and jargon that’s relevant to your topic as may come across these terms from time to time and may need to use them in a piece. Speaking of vocabulary, it never hurts to get familiar with new and intriguing synonyms. Writing for CosmeticCapital has made me detest words like ‘stunning’ and ‘beautiful’. Don’t even get me started on ‘glam’. It’s essential for writers to have extensive vocabularies to keep their work interesting - for both the readers and the writers themselves!  

3. Nobody cares about your opinion. 

It might be a little harsh, but if you’re a news reporter, nobody asked for your opinion. This stems from the ‘understanding the tone’ point. If you’re writing columns or editorials, by all means, get opinionated, but if you know that you’re being asked to report news, you’re reporting news, not offering your opinion on it. The same applies to writing music reviews. A music review isn’t your opportunity to talk about how much you hate country music. 

With the creation of social media platforms such as Twitter, you have tonnes of free and acceptable outlets to appropriately voice your opinions. Just tread carefully because: 

A) Crazy fan girls will tear you to shreds for hating on their queens. 

B) Whatever you post online can (and more than likely will) come back to haunt you so keep it tasteful and keep it classy. The last thing you want is for a future employer not to hire you because you spent an entire hour bullying young Jacob Sartorius fans.  

4. Listen to music. 

This tip is more tailored to music journalism than journalism in general. If you’re writing about The Smiths’ new album and you’ve never heard a song of theirs in your life and are completely unfamiliar with their sound, you’re definitely going to struggle with your piece. You want to be completely confident with what you’re writing about. 

If a general news article requires a tonne of research, so too does music; just a different type of research. Since I’m a Bachelor of Music student and a musician, I’ve always tended to analyse and critique music. Naturally, when I get assigned articles, I jump straight onto Spotify to listen to the song, album or artist I’ve been asked to write about. It’s a great habit to get into as it can really take your writing to the next level. You’re able to gain information first-hand from listening to the music rather than just relying on the analyses of other listeners. 

5. Edit, edit and edit again before you send your piece to the editor. 

As I said before, editors have a really hard job. Taking the work load off of them and making their job easier is only going to earn you some major brownie points.

Editing is also an excellent skill to build as it will make your writing way better in the long run. Total win-win.

6. Keep your e-mail on standby. 

Doctors will encourage you to keep off the computer, stay away from the social media and go and get some fresh air. While this is obviously true, as a journalist, social media is a must and keeping your e-mail on auto-refresh is just as crucial. Chances are, your editor will post writing opportunities on a Facebook group and send out group e-mails. If you aren’t there to jump onto the opportunity as soon as it comes your way, it’ll get snapped up. Not just that, but social media is a fantastic way to advertise your published work and get yourself out there as an independent journalist for future employers to hear your own personal voice that isn’t tied down to a brand.

On the topic of e-mails though, keep them organised. Whoever introduced folders to mail boxes is a total legend. It makes life so much easier. Believe me.

7. Don’t limit yourself. 

Even though I’m writing for Music Insight (which of course, I’m incredibly grateful for), I’ll definitely be looking for other writing opportunities when the semester finishes up. It’s so important to write whenever you can for a range of different brands to create an extensive portfolio that encompasses a large variety of tones, styles and topics. It expands your repertoire and shows future employers just how much you can actually do. A portfolio of works that have come from only one source gives a very restricted view of your true potential. Get experience in as many areas as you can, even if you’re not comfortable with a particular style. Don’t limit yourself. Keep skill-building. 

8. Take opportunities.

This is more of a note-to-self, but take every opportunity that comes your way. If you’re writing for a website once a week like I am, take opportunities outside of those weekly assignments. The Music Insight team are constantly being sent different gig review and interview opportunities. There was an opportunity to interview Nic Cester from Jet. Nic Cester! But of course, I was too afraid to take it because I was only new to the team and I was just too nervous. 

If the experience is available, take it. All of that collective experience builds your portfolio, your repertoire and your confidence and illustrates yourself as a proactive, eager and enthusiastic journalist. Three qualities that your employer will love. 

That’s all the wisdom I have to share thus far. If you’ve made it this far, major props to you. Now go have a Spongebob marathon. You've earned it. 

[mindless--wanderer]

a letter to my american friends.

Hi! My name is Teresa. I lived in Bangkok, Thailand my entire life before I came to Syracuse for college in 2013. If we have never met, you may be surprised to hear my “perfect” accent when I talk. Many people I know define a “perfect” accent as perfectly American, so much so that with eyes closed, you might even assume that I was born and raised in California or New York. How is it possible for me to have never lived in the U.S. prior to attending college here and still speak English without an accent?

For me, coming to America to obtain a college degree was always on the horizon: I attended international schools my entire academic career (a privilege not every Thai has access to) and graduated from a school that prepared me well for an undergraduate experience in this country. In the moments leading up to high school graduation, my class experienced mandatory (and unspeakably necessary, in retrospect) lectures and workshops on assimilating to a new cultural environment when we leave the international community many of us had taken for granted.

I recall little from these sessions, but recently took a step back to realize that I had been preparing myself for an American college education, and the mere experience of living here, my entire life. I watched and sang to the music from Fame as a child and became a fan of High School Musical at thirteen. I watched Richard Linklater’s films with my movie-crazed, couch-loving wonder of a mother growing up and connected with my first boyfriend over our shared love for When Harry Met Sally. I listened to Sara Bareilles, fun., and Jack Johnson on the MRT on my way to school. My tastebuds were conditioned to enjoy pumpkin pie even though I do not celebrate Thanksgiving. Adjusting to America, therefore, was not a task I had to struggle with. What I had to contribute to my college’s community was not questioned because my bizarrely American accent meant that people had no trouble understanding me, and I assimilated to this place rather seamlessly.

I struggle, however, to say that I have seen a similar degree of effort from some of my American peers, particularly those who have chosen to attend a diverse college. I cannot discount that my experience with a private, international education is a privileged one. I deeply recognize that this opportunity is financially exclusive and, therefore, limited to a select population and I am unbelievably grateful for it. Even so, the “how-have-you-never-heard-of-X” conversation, where X is a predominantly American cultural icon or reference, has happened more than one too many times since I moved to the United States. I never cared about NSYNC or The Backstreet Boys growing up and studied WWII from the U.K.’s perspective but never memorized the names of U.S. presidents in school. I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving or Easter, but splash water at friends and strangers in April for Thai new year’s because my country gets really hot that time of the year.

It does not concern me that some of my American peers do not understand my country’s messed up politics or how, in Thailand, Buddhism is as much a socio-cultural construct as it is a religious one. But it does concern me that the gaps of my American cultural awareness somehow hurt my credibility. It concerns me that my limited knowledge of The Civil War is seen by some as evidence of an unfinished education. If I don’t expect you to know about Fan Chan or Shutter, two of the most iconic Thai movies in my generation, maybe I should not be expected to know the theme song to Spongebob or The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air by default either.

America has made it incredibly easy for its people to live and stay in this country. All is familiar, from the predictability of a Target in any corner of the country to the simple truth that English, a language most other nations learn secondary to their mother tongue, is the country’s predominant and official language. It is dangerous to assume that one’s lived experience is the standard and everybody else’s perspectives are deviants from that standard. It is dangerous to dismiss that there is always, always more to learn about what this complex, nuanced world is made up of and where you stand within it. The privilege of diversity comes with a responsibility to always strive for a sounder understanding of the world’s myriad of cultural and ethnic backgrounds. The moment this learning stops is the moment diversity turns into a potential faultline rather than an opportunity for growth and collaboration.

______________

It was normal to study math with an Israeli girl in the row behind me, a Sikh Thai-Indian guy across the room, and an Australian teacher by the whiteboard. I took for granted numerous lunch hours I shared with friends from Korea, Taiwan, Australia, and Hong Kong.