Random fandom, cute, and civil rights stuff.

 

pardonmewhileipanic:

memewhore:

cruelinternet:

Ugh, say what you want about men, but at least we don’t spend half of our time complaining about the opposite sex. There is a trending attitude among the women of Tumblr, and that is ‘impossible to please’.

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this just in

man complains about women complaining

doesn’t get irony

next at 11, women everywhere laugh at text post

harzilla:

fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun:

dajo42:

if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao

I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior.  I had a real sword with me, too.  I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion.  Some woman walks by, with her little girl.  The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight.  But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.”  You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?”    And the girl looked around and saw me.  I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood.  So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?”  And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating.  Like she thinks I’m going to say no.  So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her.  And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.”  I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.

-

harzilla:

fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun:

dajo42:

if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao

I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior.  I had a real sword with me, too.  I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion.  Some woman walks by, with her little girl.  The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight.  But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.”  You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?”    And the girl looked around and saw me.  I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood.  So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?”  And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating.  Like she thinks I’m going to say no.  So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her.  And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.”  I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.

-

trigonometry-is-my-bitch:

"Glassified" Ruler by MIT Media Lab Automatically Measures Angles, Volume, and Shape Properties.
[source]

trigonometry-is-my-bitch:

"Glassified" Ruler by MIT Media Lab Automatically Measures Angles, Volume, and Shape Properties.

[source]

randomfandemonium:

jeremyloverobsessedmoi:

nuwanda13:

irefusetobedefined:

ddowney:

i’m just gonna leave this here as a reminder that “hitting bottom” doesn’t mean “staying on bottom for the rest of your life and dying as a piece of crap”

I will never, ever, not reblog this. 

*huggles RDJ*  Anyone on here who loves him, someone posted an amazing story about him when he was younger.  I wish knew where the link was so I could share it.  Instead, it’s just cut and pasted below.  If I find the link, I’ll replace it with that.

I will also say that I have read this several times now and it still makes me  cry.

“True story: His Name is Robert Downey Jr.” by Dana Reinhardt

I’m willing to go out on a limb here and guess that most stories of kindness do not begin with drug addicted celebrity bad boys.

    Mine does.

    His name is Robert Downey Jr.

    You’ve probably heard of him. You may or may not be a fan, but I am, and I was in the early 90’s when this story takes place.

    It was at a garden party for the ACLU of Southern California. My stepmother was the executive director, which is why I was in attendance without having to pay the $150 fee. It’s not that I don’t support the ACLU, it’s that I was barely twenty and had no money to speak of.

    I was escorting my grandmother. There isn’t enough room in this essay to explain to you everything she was, I would need volumes, so for the sake of brevity I will tell you that she was beautiful even in her eighties, vain as the day is long, and whip smart, though her particular sort of intelligence did not encompass recognizing young celebrities.

    I pointed out Robert Downey Jr. to her when he arrived, in a gorgeous cream-colored linen suit, with Sarah Jessica Parker on his arm. My grandmother shrugged, far more interested in piling her paper plate with various unidentifiable cheeses cut into cubes. He wasn’t Carey Grant or Gregory Peck. What did she care?

    The afternoon’s main honoree was Ron Kovic, whose story of his time in the Vietnam War that had left him confined to a wheelchair had recently been immortalized in the Oliver Stone film Born on the Fourth of July.

    I mention the wheelchair because it played an unwitting role in what happened next.

    We made our way to our folding chairs in the garden with our paper plates and cubed cheeses and we watched my stepmother give one of her eloquent speeches and a plea for donations, and there must have been a few other people who spoke but I can’t remember who, and then Ron Kovic took the podium, and he was mesmerizing, and when it was all over we stood up to leave, and my grandmother tripped.

    We’d been sitting in the front row (nepotism has its privileges) and when she tripped she fell smack into the wheelchair ramp that provided Ron Kovic with access to the stage. I didn’t know that wheelchair ramps have sharp edges, but they do, at least this one did, and it sliced her shin right open.

    The volume of blood was staggering.

    I’d like to be able to tell you that I raced into action; that I quickly took control of the situation, tending to my grandmother and calling for the ambulance that was so obviously needed, but I didn’t. I sat down and put my head between my knees because I thought I was going to faint. Did I mention the blood?

    Luckily, somebody did take control of the situation, and that person was Robert Downey Jr.

    He ordered someone to call an ambulance. Another to bring a glass of water. Another to fetch a blanket. He took off his gorgeous linen jacket and he rolled up his sleeves and he grabbed hold of my grandmother’s leg, and then he took that jacket that I’d assumed he’d taken off only to it keep out of the way, and he tied it around her wound. I watched the cream colored linen turn scarlet with her blood.

    He told her not to worry. He told her it would be alright. He knew, instinctively, how to speak to her, how to distract her, how to play to her vanity. He held onto her calf and he whistled. He told her how stunning her legs were.

    She said to him, to my humiliation: “My granddaughter tells me you’re a famous actor but I’ve never heard of you.”

    He stayed with her until the ambulance came and then he walked alongside the stretcher holding her hand and telling her she was breaking his heart by leaving the party so early, just as they were getting to know each other. He waved to her as they closed the doors. “Don’t forget to call me, Silvia,” he said. “We’ll do lunch.”

    He was a movie star, after all.

    Believe it or not, I hurried into the ambulance without saying a word. I was too embarrassed and too shy to thank him.

    We all have things we wish we’d said. Moments we’d like to return to and do differently. Rarely do we get that chance to make up for those times that words failed us. But I did. Many years later.

    I should mention here that when Robert Downey Jr. was in prison for being a drug addict (which strikes me as absurd and cruel, but that’s the topic for a different essay), I thought of writing to him. Of reminding him of that day when he was humanity personified. When he was the best of what we each can be. When he was the kindest of strangers.

    But I didn’t.

    Some fifteen years after that garden party, ten years after my grandmother had died and five since he’d been released from prison, I saw him in a restaurant.

    I grew up in Los Angeles where celebrity sightings are commonplace and where I was raised to respect people’s privacy and never bother someone while they’re out having a meal, but on this day I decided to abandon the code of the native Angeleno, and my own shyness, and I approached his table.

    I said to him, “I don’t have any idea if you remember this…” and I told him the story.

    He remembered.

    “I just wanted to thank you,” I said. “And I wanted to tell you that it was simply the kindest act I’ve ever witnessed.”

    He stood up and he took both of my hands in his and he looked into my eyes and he said, “You have absolutely no idea how much I needed to hear that today.”

OH MY GOD………………………..

reblog forever

I love seeing this on my dashboard

aidn:

scarymango:

aidn:

  • more asexual representation
  • less Sad Lesbians and more Happy Lesbians
  • more trans representation
  • non-binary representation beyond genderless robots in sci-fi films
  • BETTER AND MORE QUEER REPRESENTATION

what are you talking about

queer representation in media

shipssabriel:

I love when people randomly follow me because I assume they’ve just seen something I said and went “ah yes. This nerd seems particularly strange. Let’s see what else it does”

(Source: stridermayorfeels)

ukraine

stirringwind:

tbh the seeming lack of reaction from the EU about the latest evidence of Russian soldiers in Ukraine is really unnerving. It does feel a tad like 1939. And I don’t say this lightly. This is one case where I think an expansionist country needs to be stood up to and it’s quite disturbing the most immediate neighbours aren’t.  And there is no “but America is a hypocrite”. All countries are hypocrites and it’s always needed for other countries to point it out. Keeping quiet for the sake of moral consistency here is going to have terrible consequences for those in harm’s way. This isn’t to say the Russian government has anything close to the fanatical ideology of the Third Reich- but their tactics at engaging in stealth expansionism and banking on the apathy of neighbouring nations are extremely similar. 

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Where did it all begin? Because Ukraine was on the brink of signing an agreement with the EU- one more step moving further away from Russia and closer to the EU, as so many former Soviet satellites did. Amongst the upper echelons of Russian power, there is quite a bit of nostalgia for the old USSR-  the superpower that held Eastern Europe and the world to its sway.

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The Russian government did not want Ukraine to build further ties with the EU because it feared losing another friendly ally- putting pressure on the Ukrainian government which caved in- in a U-turn after promising to sign the Ukraine-EU association agreement. A large section of Ukrainians were furious at this- because the thing is Ukraine has been under Russian influence for a long time and there was quite a strong desire for change. And then, when pro-EU protests by Ukrainians forced Ukrainian PM Viktor Yanukovych from power, suddenly, Putin was without his stooge. (I say stooge, because let’s be serious- the current Russian government wants a Ukraine pliable to its interests and isn’t interested at all in any sort of equal relationship.) So he changed his tactics, banking on the lack of pushback.

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Just a flashback to the 1930s- the Third Reich didn’t become a military colossus overnight. Hitler began by always making soothing noises about how he was interested in diplomacy, all the while slowly breaking the various Versailles agreements like the rearmament of Germany. And then slowly testing the waters of expansionism- like the annexation of Czechoslovakia, by giving lip service to all kinds of excuses for what’s otherwise the violation of another country’s sovereignty:

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this sounds very, very uncomfortably familiar: 

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(x)(x)

As wrong and terrible the US Iraq and Afghan invasions were because of the untold suffering they caused, there wasn’t really much of a pretext that they weren’t invasions of sovereign countries.

What’s disturbing is Putin is clearly doing anything to prevent what’s happening in Ukraine from being called by its real name- a covert invasion and Russian expansionism. And the tepid response from the EU just reinforces this. 

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

gallifrey-feels:

More fun facts about ancient Celtic marriage laws: There were no laws against interclass or interracial marriage, no laws against open homosexual relationships (although they weren’t considered ‘marriages’ since the definition of a marriage was ‘couple with child’), no requirement for women to take their husband’s names or give up their property, but comedians couldn’t get married

It’s Adam and Eve not Adam Sandler and Eve

(Source: saltwaterandink)