#the truth!?

[mikeluciraphgabe]

Gaz: Ok so, zombies are all around you and you’re about to die. Do you sacrifice ghost or yourself?

Soap: Ghost, obviously

Ghost, severely offended: You didn’t even think about it!

Soap: It’s only because you’re hot. If I died, you’d end up helping and saving someone on a random day from a small group of zombies. After you save them, you two become friends and end up having this really weird slow burn of falling in love and saving each other all the time. Then, after a close call, you two would kiss and shit. I can’t have that happening.

Gaz: Soap, hon, maybe you should go talk to your therapist

[roach-works]

speculative fiction writers i am going to give you a really urgent piece of advice: don't say numbers. don't give your readers any numbers. how heavy is the sword? lots. how old is that city? plenty. how big is the fort? massive. how fast is the spaceship? not very, it's secondhand.

the minute you say a number your readers can check your math and you cannot do math better than your most autistic critic. i guarantee. don't let your readers do any math. when did something happen? awhile ago. how many bullets can that gun fire? trick question, it shoots lasers, and it shoots em HARD.

you are lying to people for fun. if you let them do math at you the lie collapses and it's no fun anymore.

[soul-from-another-era]

Unconditional love isn't a free pass to hurt me.

[smokeweedeattherich]

I'm convinced Mythbusters needs a reboot. Misinformation or mythinformation if you will, is at an all time high. We NEED the show that promotes critical thinking to come back. It doesn't need the same cast, in fact I think it would be better with some fresh faces. Imagine all the good it would do if you could just show your crazy uncle the Mythbusters reboot episode that debunks his anti-vaxx conspiracy in an easily digestible and entertaining format.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[ryanlewisandclark]

i cannot hate myself into a version of me i will love.

[rovermcfly]

proud to say that I have never once in my life figured out the whodunit in any crime story I've read or watched. I just let the facts and clues wash over me, absorbing absolutely none of it. I am the audience they think of when they throw in red herrings, in case you've ever wondered "who would fall for this obvious false lead". it's me. I am the idiot viewer/reader. not once has an obviously framed clue revealed anything to me. my head is completely empty when I consume these stories.

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i learned about Shiniuzhai, a convenience store hanging on a cliff in Hunan, that’s been nicknamed “most inconvenient convenience store” in China (x)

[curtvilescomic]

[layzeal]

i figured it out

[eyeonpalestine]

[happyheidi]

by Molly Buford

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[soul-from-another-era]

[echoesoftheinfinite]

Made to love, but not to be loved; made to understand, but not to be understood; always the poet, never the poetry.