Goddess of Literature and Sarcasm

why do you and others like vaccines so much?

Anonymous

leebrontide:

raptorchick:

daraoakwise:

shygardenavenue:

joshpeck:

not dying of preventable diseases is actually one of my favorite hobbies

Because smallpox used to kill about 30% of everyone who caught it. The successful vaccine program run by the world’s medical community means that no one will ever die of smallpox ever again.

Because rabies is 100% fatal without a vaccine. No one needs to die of rabies ever again. It is entirely preventable.

Because 1-2 in 1000 who get measles, die. Vaccines let us contain outbreaks or fully wipe them out. There is no specific treatment for the disease once you have it. Your immune system either wins or you die.

We like vaccines because vaccines save lives and raise our standard of living.

My mother, now in her 70s, talks about how her mother wept for joy when her children received the polio vaccine. Because she didn’t have to be afraid of polio anymore.

A 2019 study found that measles can cause “immune amnesia”, cutting your antibodies by 10%, up to almost 75%.  Meaning, you’ve become that much more vulnerable to a whole slew of illnesses that you used to be protected from, and it doesn’t matter if you acquired the antibodies via a vaccine or recovering from an illnesses - they are gone.  All those shots you got as a baby?  The boosters you got through grade school and as an adult, including the annual flu shot?  Guess what: measles most likely wiped your body’s immune memory of those and you’ll have to get them all.  Over.  Again.

This is one of those posts that always prompts me to remind folks- many of the vaccines you received as a child need adult boosters! It’s worth checking to make sure you’re up to date on these!

See I did not know this in my 20s, and I didn’t have health insurance so I never saw doctors.

As a result of this and goddamn antivaxxers I got whooping cough in goddamn 2010. Now, this is less dangerous than many things you will get vaccinated for if you stay on top of things. But I am dead serious when I tell you I broke one of my ribs from coughing too hard. Did you know that was a thing? Because I hadn’t till it happened to me, and friend it was not a good time.

Vaccines save lives. And they save you from other miserable things as well. Please check to see if you’re up to date.

ladylingua:

ladylingua:

wierdkid20:

ladylingua:

it’s so darkly hilarious when Daine first meets Jon

because she very sweetly is all “Me? You’re interested in little old me? Golly gee willikers, I can’t possibly be of interest to the likes of you!”

meanwhile Jon is just profoundly grateful she likes him and Tortall because he was gonna feel really bad if he had to tell her she’s not allowed to ever leave Tortall under pain of death

because no joke, after seeing Daine’s immense and unparalleled power, imagine her being like “Ok well this was fun, it’s been great meeting you and learning about the inner workings of one branch of your military, but I actually think I’m going to go to Carthak now, or Tyra, or Scanra, or even back to Galla, gonna pack up all my godlike magic power and ability to liaise with animals and sense immortal threats before they appear and go visit one of your rival nations and offer them that power now, anyways thanks for everything bye!!”

please, George’s people would have killed her before she had finished packing a single saddlebag, absolutely no way Daine is allowed to just walk out after what they’ve all seen, no fucking way

Daine all perky and happy and amazed anyone at all finds her interesting, Jon awkwardly chuckling while discretely shooing away his lawyers in the corner who are drafting up terms of imprisonment, Onua and Numair just heaving big sighs of relief their new friend is so happy here and things don’t have to go south

And you know after the Carthak Incident ™ Jon was even more thrilled Daine was happy in Tortall.

Daine is truly like if your country had a nuclear weapon but it could walk and talk and was loving and was very loyal to you, but like in the back of your mind you gotta wonder what you’d do if that ever changed…

the dainenheimer of it all, shall we say

deadsprout:

At first Netflix said, come write for us. We’ll save your cancelled shows and write about whatever niche story you want. Our algorithm says people will watch it!

Then a few years later they said, regardless of our promises or contract obligations we are cancelling shows after two seasons without telling anyone. Turns out no matter how loved a show is, we get less subscriptions after the second season.

How many subscriptions did we bring you? Netflix won’t say.

So writers started writing two season shows. Just give us two seasons, Netflix. Like you promised.

Then Netflix said, oops sorry! Turns out your show didn’t premiere at #1 and the views in the first day weren’t what we wanted so we’re cancelling your second season.

What were the numbers? How many people watched our show? Netflix doesn’t say.

Then, they did something extra special. They started taking shows and splitting their first season into two halves. Inside Job was not two seasons. It was one season split in half.

Oops! Sorry! The second half of your first season didn’t do as well as the first half, so now your show is cancelled!

Why? How many people? How much money? These companies are making cash hand over fist and they refuse to tell people the truth: people loved your show. Loved it. But some corpo exec wanted an infinite money making machine. Do you know how long shows are in production for before you watch them? Years. Like, 5+, even 10+ years. And Netflix gives it less than a week before they decide whether you’re getting cancelled.

Support #WGA Support #SAGAFTRA

devonbragg-art:
“quick doodle
”

devonbragg-art:

quick doodle

majestictortoise:

characters who are absolutely convinced down to their bones that they are unlovable being subjected to the mortifying ideal of being wholly and unconditionally loved. that’s the good stuff. never get tired of it.

aceofblueheart:

princesssarisa:

In the past I’ve shared other people’s musings about the different interpretations of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Namely, why Orpheus looks back at Eurydice, even though he knows it means he’ll lose her forever. So many people seem to think they’ve found the one true explanation of the myth. But to me, the beauty of myths is that they have many possible meanings.

So I thought I would share a list of every interpretation I know, from every serious adaptation of the story and every analysis I’ve ever heard or read, of why Orpheus looks back.

One interpretation – advocated by Monteverdi’s opera, for example – is that the backward glance represents excessive passion and a fatal lack of self-control. Orpheus loves Eurydice to such excess that he tries to defy the laws of nature by bringing her back from the dead, yet that very same passion dooms his quest fo fail, because he can’t resist the temptation to look back at her.

He can also be seen as succumbing to that classic “tragic flaw” of hubris, excessive pride. Because his music and his love conquer the Underworld, it might be that he makes the mistake of thinking he’s entirely above divine law, and fatally allows himself to break the one rule that Hades and Persephone set for him.

Then there are the versions where his flaw is his lack of faith, because he looks back out of doubt that Eurydice is really there. I think there are three possible interpretations of this scenario, which can each work alone or else co-exist with each other. From what I’ve read about Hadestown, it sounds as if it combines all three.

In one interpretation, he doubts Hades and Persephone’s promise. Will they really give Eurydice back to him, or is it all a cruel trick? In this case, the message seems to be a warning to trust in the gods; if you doubt their blessings, you might lose them.

Another perspective is that he doubts Eurydice. Does she love him enough to follow him? In this case, the warning is that romantic love can’t survive unless the lovers trust each other. I’m thinking of Moulin Rouge!, which is ostensibly based on the Orpheus myth, and which uses Christian’s jealousy as its equivalent of Orpheus’s fatal doubt and explicitly states “Where there is no trust, there is no love.”

The third variation is that he doubts himself. Could his music really have the power to sway the Underworld? The message in this version would be that self-doubt can sabotage all our best efforts.

But all of the above interpretations revolve around the concept that Orpheus looks back because of a tragic flaw, which wasn’t necessarily the view of Virgil, the earliest known recorder of the myth. Virgil wrote that Orpheus’s backward glance was “A pardonable offense, if the spirits knew how to pardon.”

In some versions, when the upper world comes into Orpheus’s view, he thinks his journey is over. In this moment, he’s so ecstatic and so eager to finally see Eurydice that he unthinkingly turns around an instant too soon, either just before he reaches the threshold or when he’s already crossed it but Eurydice is still a few steps behind him. In this scenario, it isn’t a personal flaw that makes him look back, but just a moment of passion-fueled carelessness, and the fact that it costs him Eurydice shows the pitilessness of the Underworld.

In other versions, concern for Eurydice makes him look back. Sometimes he looks back because the upward path is steep and rocky, and Eurydice is still limping from her snakebite, so he knows she must be struggling, in some versions he even hears her stumble, and he finally can’t resist turning around to help her. Or more cruelly, in other versions – for example, in Gluck’s opera – Eurydice doesn’t know that Orpheus is forbidden to look back at her, and Orpheus is also forbidden to tell her. So she’s distraught that her husband seems to be coldly ignoring her and begs him to look at her until he can’t bear her anguish anymore.

These versions highlight the harshness of the Underworld’s law, and Orpheus’s failure to comply with it seems natural and even inevitable. The message here seems to be that death is pitiless and irreversible: a demigod hero might come close to conquering it, but through little or no fault of his own, he’s bound to fail in the end.

Another interpretation I’ve read is that Orpheus’s backward glance represents the nature of grief. We can’t help but look back on our memories of our dead loved ones, even though it means feeling the pain of loss all over again.

Then there’s the interpretation that Orpheus chooses his memory of Eurydice, represented by the backward glance, rather than a future with a living Eurydice. “The poet’s choice,” as Portrait of a Lady on Fire puts it. In this reading, Orpheus looks back because he realizes he would rather preserve his memory of their youthful, blissful love, just as it was when she died, than face a future of growing older, the difficulties of married life, and the possibility that their love will fade. That’s the slightly more sympathetic version. In the version that makes Orpheus more egotistical, he prefers the idealized memory to the real woman because the memory is entirely his possession, in a way that a living wife with her own will could never be, and will never distract him from his music, but can only inspire it.

Then there are the modern feminist interpretations, also alluded to in Portrait of a Lady on Fire but seen in several female-authored adaptations of the myth too, where Eurydice provokes Orpheus into looking back because she wants to stay in the Underworld. The viewpoint kinder to Orpheus is that Eurydice also wants to preserve their love just as it was, youthful, passionate, and blissful, rather than subject it to the ravages of time and the hardships of life. The variation less sympathetic to Orpheus is that Euyridice was at peace in death, in some versions she drank from the river Lethe and doesn’t even remember Orpheus, his attempt to take her back is selfish, and she prefers to be her own free woman than be bound to him forever and literally only live for his sake.

With that interpretation in mind, I’m surprised I’ve never read yet another variation. I can imagine a version where, as Orpheus walks up the path toward the living world, he realizes he’s being selfish: Eurydice was happy and at peace in the Elysian Fields, she doesn’t even remember him because she drank from Lethe, and she’s only following him now because Hades and Persephone have forced her to do so. So he finally looks back out of selfless love, to let her go. Maybe I should write this retelling myself.

Are any of these interpretations – or any others – the “true” or “definitive” reason why Orpheus looks back? I don’t think so at all. The fact that they all exist and can all ring true says something valuable about the nature of mythology.

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prismatic-bell:

beowulf22121:

gay-jesus-probably:

shadowsong26x:

nianeyna:

animentality:

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my second grade teacher tried to gently break the news to my mom that I couldn’t read at a parent-teacher conference lol. she’s all like “I know this is hard to hear but she’s very behind I’m sorry” mom comes home and is like NIA! EXPLAIN THIS!! I’m like mooooooom those baby books at school are so bo-RING! 😂

image description: a tweet from  ر ت  ت  ت   (@ raniawrites), timestamped 7:38 AM on 19 Feb 23

many years ago, I had a meeting with my God son’s teacher, she was worried about his speech development bc according to her “he NEVER speaks”, I asked him - “Gabo, what’s going on?” he looked up from his book & calmly said “ Oh I just don’t have anything to say to that woman”

I had the exact same thing happen when I was a kid; my kindergarten teacher swore up and down that I was completely illiterate, cause I’d take the baby books in the classroom, flip through them, then never touch any of them again. My parents kept informing her that no, seriously, the kid can read, the kid is reading full chapter books on their own, of course they don’t give a shit about See Spot Run

Teacher continued to insist they were wrong and in denial about their kid being illiterate. She throws such a shit fit over the matter that the principal has to get involved, and I am brought to his office for a specific literacy test in front of him, my teacher, and a parent. they expected my mother to show up, on account of it being 2004. Mom has a full time job doing something sciency at the pulp mill, and no time for this nonsense. Dad runs a small construction company, and absolutely has time for this nonsense. We’re off to a good start already.

Teacher is very smug about this, fully expecting me to once again prove my complete dumbassery. My daycare was attached to the school, and that’s allowed me to build a reputation in advance. I’m that one kid that slammed their own head into a windowsill for unclear reasons, then failed to understand why adults were concerned about the blood pouring down my face. I’ve accidentally wounded myself so many times that my incident folder needed to be expanded. There is significant evidence for me being a dumbass of epic proportions.

Unfortunately for my teacher, I’m also a dumbass who can read.

I am handed a book. It is a picture book about an elephant. I refuse the book, because I find it boring and patronizing. I have no idea what we’re all doing here, and nobody has made any real effort to explain the situation to me. The teacher looks triumphant. The principal winces.

Dad persuades me to just read the dumb book out loud. I begrudgingly comply.

I tear through the entire thing in about a minute, then throw it aside in disgust.

Dad was prepared for this moment. He is here to produce maximum chaos. The principal and teacher are still trying to understand what the fuck just happened, when Dad produces a different book and hands it me. He suggests I read a chapter of that to everyone.

I take the book, and happily begin reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

The principal is giving the teacher an unimpressed Look. The teacher is torn between wanting to strangle me, and wanting to strangle my dad. My dad is 6'3, which means neither option is very appealing. Neither staff member was emotionally prepared for a five year old to break out a novel. Dad has been arguing about this for weeks now. He is enjoying the vindication. He helpfully informs the principal that I’ve already finished the first two books, and am eagerly awaiting my older sibling being done with book three so I can start reading it.

The principal, now looking very tired, suggests that maybe I should go back to class now.

The teacher hates me with a passion and vengeance for the rest of the year. I am an autistic five year old, and therefor completely oblivious to it. I remain unaware of this entire story until my parents explain it to me as a teenager.

I did not expect the local vocational school to allow such a strange way to teach my chosen vocation. I went back to my regular highschool mid-year.

Back in normal school I get handed a book and told there’s a test on chapter 20 the next day.

I bombed that test but the next week I had already finished it and started getting my usual high marks, and the teacher spent three weeks reminding me to read the first half as well.

I was also this kid.

I started reading at eighteen months old. By the time I was two I was reading full Dr. Seuss books to myself. By the time I was three I knew how to read silently. By the time I was four I was reading the naptime story to the other kids in my daycare because I already had pacing and cadence down and it was easier to let me read than to try to force me to take a nap.

And then I hit kindergarten.

My mother insisted to my teacher that I could read. No, no, kids that age often like to mimic back parts of stories they’ve memorized. No, no, xe’s too young. No, xe can’t read, xe barely participates when we do class reading.

….end of the year comes. We are visiting the school library for the first time. And my teacher calls my mom and says “Mrs. PB, did you know your daughter can read?”

My mom: yeah, I’ve been telling you that all year.
My teacher: No, I mean xe can read.
My mom: yeah, I’ve been telling you that all year.
My teacher: No, I mean–we directed the kids to the picture books. Xe walked straight into the sixth-grade section, selected a book about Greek mythology, and at the end of the period walked up to me to explain why Zeus couldn’t actually have worked that way.
My mom: yeah, I’ve been telling you that all year.


The next year I had an absolute dipshit of a teacher absolutely no parents liked (she ended up getting fired because she got pregnant and decided it was a good idea to tell a bunch of six-year-olds how that worked). She also refused to believe I could read.

…..so I hid the Ramona Quimby books in my desk and read something else while everyone else was on Danny and the Dinosaur.

(If you’re wondering, by the way, yes, this trend would continue. By age seven I was reading Shakespeare and in twelfth grade we were offered extra credit if we could read part of Beowulf in Old English and I did it. I peaked young and today I struggle to keep my attention on a book, which is sad.)

Oh my god, this is like reading a thread of AUs of me. My moment came a bit later in 4th grade, when I had a teacher who couldn’t have reasoned her way out of a wet paper bag. So about a month into classes she decided that, because I wasn’t as fast at note-taking as my classmates, that *obviously* meant that I couldn’t read and that I was trying to cover that up.

So she sent me to the reading specialist every time we were supposed to do reading work. Well, the specialist figured out pretty quickly that not only could I already read, but that I was reading way above grade level. And this annoyed her, because she had kids who actually needed her having their time taken away, and this classroom teacher had clearly not done any close work with me first.

So there’s a big meeting, because bureaucracy meant that once I was assigned to the specialist I couldn’t be un-assigned without an official explanation. And the specialist and my mom are basically wondering how the teacher got it so wrong, which is when in defending herself the issue of the note-taking comes up. And my mom, dripping with disdain, goes “You grade on neatness and she’s a lefty. She’s trying not to smear her work so that you can’t deduct points when she gets the questions right.”

tlirsgender:

tlirsgender:

It appears to me a lot of people’s impression of Sherlock Holmes’ drug use out of context is “he’s running around solving murders while coked out of his mind” which is really funny BUT!

As someone who reads acd canon & has the autistic urge to correct people about my interests, I’d like to let it be known that he actually primarily uses drugs between cases, because he gets painfully bored with nothing to do, stating “my mind rebels at stagnation.” This is because he has adhd but the diagnosis hadn’t been invented yet. Anyway

This can still be funny because it means the rest of the time he’s acting like that while completely sober. He’s just quirky. He IS a cokehead but it actually calms him down. Because he needs adderall

You may hear “Sherlock Holmes does cocaine” and think “oh, that explains why he’s so fucking weird” but you would have it backwards. He does cocaine because he’s already just Like That. He does this specifically when he’s understimulated. They didn’t have adhd meds in victorian london he’s taking whatever stimulants are available. And That’s why he’s coked out of his mind. But Not while currently working on a case, because that keeps him busy

*note: I have adhd I know how it is

johnsheppard-assshaker:

Hey man sorry about your male co-star. Turns out you guys had too much sexual tension on screen so he was written into a lazy, heterosexual romance arc that lacks chemistry and depth and actually just makes him look even more queer tbh. Now he’s off pretending to be happy with somebody else when the love of his life was right there all along. I’m so sorry dude. It will probably happen again :/

genderkoolaid:

ashgunnywolf:

genderkoolaid:

tumblr puritans have never spoken to a kinky person and you can tell this because they talk about ~scary~ kinks like a child who thinks their teacher sleeps at school. they have a 1700s “actors cannot be trusted for they engage in obscene behavior” mindset. yes lil buddy people can in fact roleplay situations and then exit that roleplay and have different thoughts and actions 🤗 adding sex to performance does not actually cast a magic spell that turns you into a monster incapable of morality <3

Kink is just LARP that makes you cum.

…Hear me out.

If I say “Nooooo don’t kill me!!!” while LARPing, my friend is still gonna whack me on the head with their foam battle axe bc that’s what I want them to do. If I actually didn’t want to get hit on the head, I’d say “WHOA WHOA WHOA TIME OUT TIME OUT” so they’d know I’m serious.

In the same way, if I say “Nooooo don’t spank me!!!” and my partner still spanks me, THAT’S FINE. I want to get spanked, and I’m just playing along. It would only be a real problem if I were to say the agreed-upon safe word, the word that actually means no, and still get spanked.

See? LARP that makes you cum.

& to add on to that:

Your friend enjoying pretending to kill you in a safe and consensual enviroment where they know you are also having a good time does not mean they actually want to axe murder people.

And in the same way, your partner enjoying safely spanking you in a safe and consensual enviroment where they know you are also having a good time does not mean they actually want to beat you up

princesskuragina:

princesskuragina:

Corset discourse really likes to talk in sensationalizing absolutes but historically speaking a corset is just a kind of garment. They could be uncomfortable and painful or they could be well fitted and supportive. They could be hyper-fashionable or they could be brutally practical. You could tightlace them or you could wear them with no reduction whatsoever. Most corsets were probably somewhere in the middle. Like bras. Or shoes. To say they were never perceived as restrictive or used as tools of enforcing dangerous/misogynistic beauty standards is like saying women’s shoes never restrict freedom of movement. Patently untrue, but that doesn’t mean those shoes have some deeper moral good or evil and it certainly doesn’t mean we can use that fact to draw sweeping generalizations about the relationships of entire centuries of women to their own bodies. Corsets, like all clothing, exist in context.

Refuting the “corsets were evil torture devices and vain shallow women were forcing themselves to lace themselves down to x inches so they could attract a man” narrative was never about saying “corsets are a universal good, actually”. It’s about considering more fully the variety of ways clothing shaped and was shaped by its culture, and affording the women of the past the dignity of agency and interiority

myjetpack:

A figure stands on a tiny, sandy desert island  with one palm tree, a wooden crate, and lots of books. A large container ship has arrived and two figures look down. The castaway is saying to them “can you swing by again in a month or two? I’ve got a few more books I’d like to read”.ALT

This week’s cartoon for Guardian Books.

kingquentin:

bitchesoffillory:

doctorprofessorsong:

bitchesoffillory:

thinking about this jalph interview and getting emo 

“I believe that sexuality is a spectrum and I think Quentin falls somewhere in the middle of that, and I don’t think it’s something that— I think he’s anxious about a lot of things in his life and the fact that he’s not quite anxious about that is a little bit remarkable, and something that I’m choosing to lean into.” -Jason Ralph

anyways i love bi quentin coldwater 💖💜💙

This is one of my favorite things. Quentin struggles with depression and he is anxious about a lot, but this? This is just him. He loves who he loves.

Gd, yeah I’m

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