Bro explained religion 💀

I strongly believe most (if not all) ultra religious are basically "religious" and have NO business claiming to be part of the community or believing in the same force/deity.

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

I don't get why this is horrifying other than it being a mass shooting?

Is it that they used up so much ink to make a point?

Read closer, each of those lines is a different incident

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

“oh they’re not taking away chronological dashboard, well everything’s okay then” they also said in the post they’re making reblogs collapsed (like comments on twitter) so you won’t see the full conversation in a post. they also won’t get rid of tumblr live despite it being an annoying and cancerous data-miner that isn’t legal in much of the world. they won’t even let you opt out of tumblr live for more than seven days. they implemented a terrible photo viewer that mimics tiktok and makes it so you can’t zoom in on images. they took away the ability to view prev tags. they’re making it so you have to sign in with your email to view almost any thing on tumblr. they’ve already made it so you have to sign in to send asks, even on anon. they’re slowly phasing out custom blog themes.

the things that make tumblr at all usable and favored by us– the older web blog features, the anonymity– that is still being taken away. it HAS been being taken away for some time now. i am urging you people to reveiwbomb the tumblr app. force them to acknowledge that users do not like these changes.

Good news! You can let Tumblr Staff know what you think about every version of Tumblr in a way that they might listen to! Here is a long survey from a blog associated with Staff and here is a short survey from the same blog. The blog, although full of surveys, does not allow reblogs. However, I took the long survey and later they improved one thing I complained about, so there is a chance more people complaining about changes could halt their enshittification. I cannot retake the surveys, so I must ask you all to send feedback where I cannot.

Pasting these links all at the end too for ease of access:

Long Survey: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/2V3MQTP

Short Survey: https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/HS5LP3W

Staff’s 2x Secret Userbase Research Blog (with unrebloggable posts): https://www.tumblr.com/benevolenthellsite

i fuckin love a survey I tell you what

the way tumblr is trying to distance itself from being a blogging platform is fucking. infuriating!!

like do you not know this is your strength!!! I want to be able to visit other people’s pages that have been CUSTOM MADE for their purpose!!! ARTISTS HAVE LINKS AND TAGS FOR THEIR ART!!!  COMMUNITIES AND HELP/TUTORIAL BLOGS HAVE TAGS FOR SPECIFIC QUIERIES!!! WRITERS CAN LINK ME TO THEIR STORIES!!! IT HELPS BOTH THE POSTERS AND THE CONSUMERS TO MODERATE THE EXPERIENCE TO THEIR LIKING!!!!

SENDING PEOPLE TO THAT UNSLIGHTLY “BOARD” OF A “BLOG” THAT APPEARS NOW WHEN YOU CLICK THE NAME OF THE BLOG INSTEAD OF SENDING YOU TO THE ACTUAL BLOG IS SUCH A DUMBASS MOVE? IT DOESNT EVEN ALLOW LINKS!!! I CANT DO SHIT ON THERE!!! I CANT FIND WHAT IM THERE FOR!!!! IT MAKES ME NOT WANT TO USE IT!!!!

TUMBLR IS/USED TO BE THE MOST FLEXIBLE AND THAT WAS ITS BIGGEST MERIT!!! YOU HAVE ONE OF THE BEST TAGGING SYSTEMS AND YOU WONT LET ME USE IT TO ITS FULL POTENTIAL!!! 

YOU CAN FOSTER COMMUNITIES, YOU LET PEOPLE KEEP MULTIPLE SIDE BLOGS WITHOUT HAVING TO SIGN IN WITH A DIFFERENT EMAIL, YOU ALLOW VIDEOS AND AUDIO AND +4 PHOTOS PER POST!!!! TWITTER CANT HAVE THAT!! TIKTOK CANT HAVE THAT!! REDDIT CANT HAVE THAT!!! FACEBOOK CANT HAVE THAT!!!

IM SO SICK OF THIS TWITTERIFICATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALT

TREE LAW TREE LAW TREE LAW

come here i need to tell you a secret we have to whisper because it is gross. i want to be loved so softly. i want to be held. i want to be cherished. i want to be admired and adored.

still so fucking weird to go from real life, where a cis man being flamboyant/effeminate/camp is judged like 70+% by how he speaks and carries himself, to online queer communities, which often seem to have no concept of male gender non-conformity that doesn’t involve wearing a skirt

i promise you, a man can be fem to the point of being in danger while wearing literally exactly the same thing as a hypermasculine guy. a boring basic black suit. a t shirt and jeans. a UNIFORM. gender conformity is not only about what you wear

None of you have watched that heartbreaking scene in The Birdcage where Albert gives up wearing everything he likes to try and blend in for their son’s conservative prospective in-laws and is so awkward and uncomfortable that no one says much until finally he says, defeated, “I know what you’re thinking - dressed like this, I’m even more obvious, aren’t I?” and it shows.

Here, have your queer heart broken:

This is what I’m talking about. This is still literally how it is in most places in the Midwest if you’re trying to “pass” for straight/cis/whatever.

I cannot begin to describe how hard I cried when I saw this scene the first time and how confused my conservative family was as to why I was crying.

It’s so funny how literally the way a man holds his wrists is an indication of femininity but also people think it’s all about makeup and clothing. But we’re also at a point that if you have a suit that is any color other than black, dark grey, or navy, it’s flamboyant.

Men’s sartorial stylings are so rigidly controlled it’s painful. Tim Gunn here is at the very absolute bleeding edge of “acceptably masculine” here for most cishet men, just for some noticible stripes, patterns, and purple, and that’s before he even moves. This is how restricted it is.

But Trixie Mattel (out of drag here) wearing standard masculine garb is could still be deemed unacceptably feminine for body language alone.

This is why we talk about “toxic masculinity” – the idea that any expression of emotion besides anger or even wearing colorful clothes is non-masculine and therefore restricted is horrifying. It sucks! Men should be allowed to express themselves outside of a tiny box of acceptable behavior, because they’re, y'know, people, and people have a wide range of expression in the way they like to look and move and act.

I honestly feel like it’s gotten worse over the last couple decades, too. If you look at men’s fashions from the 70s and even into the 80s, there’s a lot of style choices that look pretty cringe to us, but…. you also see a lot more color and pattern in suits than you do now. I’m not sure when this started to shift, or if it’s tied in to the increasing lack of color in all consumer products, but it sucks.

I think one of the reasons why tree law is so popular and people are so enthusiastic about it is because a big, old tree being killed feels so awful. You've got something that took years or decades to get that big, that provides so many benefits, and then it's just...gone and irreplaceable. Of course people are like oh boy, you didn't think that thing was valuable and now the law is gonna come for you and you're gonna regret it.

And it feels like one of the few cases where the rich (not the mega rich, but the regular rich) actually get held to account for their crimes, because the punishment is designed to match the actual damage they do. You cut down a bunch of your neighbor's trees to make your property more valuable? The punishment is basically the cost of your property.

a young streamer sits in his desk.

Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.