Alphonse Mucha (1860-1939) - 1920’s.
people who don’t get excited about tv shows make me uncomfortable
The only couple needed in Brave.
'You could've taken anyone!’ said Ron in disbelief over dinner. ‘Anyone! And you chose Loony Lovegood?’
'Don't call her that, Ron,' snapped Ginny, pausing behind Harry on her way to join friends. 'I'm really glad you're taking her, Harry, she's so excited.'
No guys, I need to stop and talk about something in this movie and how fucking revolutionary it was; something that I haven’t seen in a movie before or since.
This is a movie about a kid who leaves her birth family.
Not a kid who find that they have a secret lineage or something that allows them to find their ‘true family’ - this is a movie about a kid whose true birth family is made up of bad people. So she gets out. And that is played as the right thing to do. She isn’t punished for it or made to feel bad about ‘abandoning her family’. There isn’t an underlying ‘but they’re your family and you have to love them’ or ‘they’re your family and they love you even if they don’t show it well or do hurtful things’ message of the kind that I see OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER in media. Matilda gets out and lives happily ever after because of it.
We need a million more movies like this to counter the metric shit ton of movies that directly counter this message.
Jared Padalecki - SDCC 2014
And I found out about the news mentioned in the previous post about an hour before I had to go into work. And work was just terrible on top of trying to process everything that I was thinking.
Okay, so, I don’t even know how to start this. To say that my grandfather is dead doesn’t sound right. He was not my grandfather. He was not my anything. I met him twice in my life. The first time I was a baby and do not remember it. The second time I saw a glimpse of him as my mom told me to go to my room when I was like 11 or 12. I did not know this guy. It I was asked to pick him out of a lineup I would not who to pick. I have never heard his voice or called him grandpa to his face or hugged him or talked to him. And I don’t know what to feel right now.
The ink is running toward the page, it’s chasing off the days.
Look back at both feet and that winding knee.
I missed your skin when you were east;
you clicked your heels and wished for me
Two other women, also breast cancer survivors, said their husbands left them after they were diagnosed. Both had to have mastectomies (in case anyone doesn’t know, this is the surgical operation to remove one or both breasts).
The first woman said her husband told her that he would rather see her dead than see her lose her breasts. The second woman had her operation and waited all day to be picked up by her husband, who never arrived. By nightfall, one of the nurses offered to give her a ride, and she came home to find the house empty.
Obviously, these are extreme cases of a man’s reaction to his wife’s breast cancer, but this is what I see when I see the “I ♥ Boobies” bracelets. I see love of the body parts, not the person being treated—not the patient, not the victim, not the survivor.