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@theartofmadeline
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Kaledo Art

Discoholic đŞŠ
Aqua Utopiaď˝ćľˇăŽĺşă§č¨ćśăç´Ąă

Origami Around
AnasAbdin
cherry valley forever
Keni
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

ellievsbear
styofa doing anything

romaâ

â

PR's Tumblrdome
Claire Keane

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@abigailmarx

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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every shitty book now is called something like a court of shit and fuck or something equally stupid. books used to be called frindle and we liked it. we liked it
i miss everyone
Now that there's a ceasefire in Gaza, I'm starting to see spam asks popping up claiming to be from refugees in South Sudan.
I will remind you: now as then, THESE ARE SCAMS. They were scams when they were "Gazans," they were scams when they were "Ukrainians," they were scams when they were "homeless trans people who got kicked out of their homes," they were scams when they were "cats needing surgery."
I do encourage you to consider donating to help the South Sudanese people. They've been through a brutal civil war and it doesn't seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. But you have many legitimate options for doing so that don't involve giving money to scam farms. Please utilize them.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i've said this before but it's so crazy that some of you just grew up with tornadoes. if i saw one twister snake down from the clouds in front of my physical eyes i would become a mad priest for the rest of my life. and people from kansas are just like "lmao yeah that's why we had basement prom that one year" or whatevr
Saw a Snapchat story repost about âupcoming boycottsâ and one of them was unironically âdonât buy on Amazon for a weekâ. We have a long way to go
Mrs. Faust
by Carol Ann Duffy
First things first -- I married Faust. We met as students, shacked up, split up, made up, hitched up, got a mortgage on a house, flourished academically, BA. MA. Ph.D. No kids. Two toweled bathrobes. Hers. His. We worked. We saved. We moved again. Fast cars. A boat with sails. A second home in Wales. The latest toys -- computers, mobile phones. Prospered. Moved again. Faustâs face was clever, greedy, slightly mad. I was as bad. I grew to love the lifestyle, not the life. He grew to love the kudos, not the wife. He went to whores. I felt, not jealousy, but chronic irritation. I went to yoga, tâai chi, Feng Shui, therapy, colonic irrigation. And Faust would boast at dinner parties of the cost of doing deals out East. Then take his lust to Soho in a cab, to say the least, to lay the ghost, get lost, meet panthers, feast. He wanted more. I came home late one winterâs evening, hadnât eaten. Faust was upstairs in his study, in a meeting. I smelled cigar smoke, hellish, oddly sexy, not allowed. I heard Faust and the other laugh aloud. Next thing, the world, as Faust said, spread its legs. First politics -- Safe seat. MP. Right Hon. KG. 50 Then banks -- offshore, abroad -- and business - Vice-Âchairman. Chairman. Owner. Lord. Enough? Encore! Faust was Cardinal, Pope, knew more than God; flew faster than the speed of sound around the globe, lunched; walked on the moon, golfed, holed in one; lit a fat Havana on the sun. Then backed a hunch -- Invested in smart bombs, in harms, Faust dealt in arms. Faust got in deep, got out. Bought farms, cloned sheep, Faust surfed the Internet for like-Âminded Bo-ÂPeep. As for me, I went my own sweet way, saw Rome in a day, spun gold from hay, had a facelift, had my breasts enlarged, my buttocks tightened; went to China, Thailand, Africa, returned, enlightened. Turned 40, celibate, teetotal, vegan, Buddhist, 41. Went blonde, redhead, brunette, went native, ape, berserk, bananas; went on the run, alone; went home. Faust was in. A word, he said, I spent the night being pleasured by a virtual Helen of Troy. Face that launched a thousand ships. I kissed its lips. Things is -- Iâve made a pact with Mephistopheles, the Devilâs boy. Heâs on his way to take away whatâs owed, reap what I sowed. For all these years of gagging for it, going for it, rolling in it, Iâve sold my soul. At this, I heard a serpentâs hiss, tasted evil, knew its smell, as scaly devil hands poked up right through the terracotta Tuscan tiles at Faustâs bare feet and dragged him, oddly smirking, there and then straight down to Hell. Oh, well. Faustâs will left everything -- the yacht, the several homes, the Lear jet, the helipad, the loot, et cet, et cet, the lot -- to me. Câest la vie. When I got ill, it hurt like hell. I bought a kidney with my credit card, then I got well. I keep Faustâs secret still -- the clever, cunning, callous bastard didnât have a soul to sell.
Connections today (February 3rd) was dismal
i would stand here with some of you

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Thereâs still a path to lasting peace. But weâll need a new set of leaders.
The conflict between Israelis and Palestinians is often assumed to be impossible to solve, a matter of two national movements with irreconcilable aspirations for one tiny piece of land. It has felt like this for nearly a century, and perhaps never more so than during the past year of anger and grief.
But as a Palestinian who was born in Jerusalemâs Old City, who has lived through the occupation, who sat in an Israeli prison for five years, I see a way out. Even today, with the pain so fresh, I believe itâs possible for Palestinians to get our state, and for the two peoples to coexist. But to arrive there, both sides will need to radically change their thinkingâand their leadership.
The future I imagine is in some ways rooted in a past I remember from my childhood in the early â80s. In the busy streets of the Old City, you knew which community you belonged to, but everyone shared the space. As a boy, before I had any understanding of who was above whom, I knew only that everyone was bustling at the end of the week, with Jews going to synagogue, Christians heading to church, and Muslims following the sound of the muezzin to prayer. My family is Muslim, but I attended a Christian school. I never questioned how natural this layered reality was.
But then, in 1987, the First Intifada began. I was 14. All at once, I felt pulled into the conflict, drawn to what I heard on the streets and saw on television, which was a more straightforward story than what Iâd known in Jerusalemâthe struggle of my people, armed with stones, standing up to tanks. I wanted to throw stones as well, to feel a part of it. And so I did. And like many of my teenage friends, I was eventually arrested, and sentenced by a military judge to five yearsâ imprisonment.
âNever believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.â
â Jean-Paul Sartre
Describes our times well.
I donât know what to make of this ad I got, but Iâm choosing to intuit it as divinely communicated instructions for the transcendental ritual necessary to achieve godhood
hey, weâll be ok
Just heard about Lynch⌠if any esoteric bisexual baddies need a shoulder to cry onâ Iâm here.

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This white goddess type gown is worn on Janet Leigh as Grace Wheeler Willis in Columbo: Forgotten Lady (1975) and later worn on Cassie Yates as Sally Bartell in The Bionic Woman: Bionic Beauty (1976)
translatology themed Seinfeld episode where Elaine goes out with a german guy who is an ardent admirer of Walter Benjamin's Task of the Translator so she starts using german idioms translated word for word into englishš. George, a strict adherent to Vermeer's Skopos Theory² ("always been a skopos guy. it's straight to the point. what's going on in hermeneutics? nobody knows! no idea, no skopos!"), makes fun of her for this but then grows a moustache and retrieves his toupÊ to resemble Benjamin more closely so Wilhelm will think he's in deep translatological thought when he's just looking out the window. the plan backfires, as Steinbrenner associates his new look with Trotsky³ ("shave that beard off George, we're running the Yankees here, not a newspaper!") Jerry is dating a brasilian girl who studied under Rosemary Arrojo, and is accused by Kramer of supporting monolingual regimes bc he wouldn't learn portuguese for her. However, concluding he should show more interest in her work, he tries to impress her by reading Cixous' Reading with Clarice Lispector, in reaction to which the girl breaks up with him ("she broke up with me, George! she said she wanted Cleopatra in bed, not a colonizer!" "Cleopatra?!" "Yes! Can you believe it?" "Nah, you don't have the nose for it.")⾠Kramer misunderstands Anthropophagic Translation✠and thinks Newman wants to eat him.
Translator's Notes
š Walter Benjamin's 1923 essay Die Aufgabe des Ăbersetzers contains the idea that a translation should not read like a text conceived in the target language but should rather emulate the rhythms and patterns of the source language, so a translation from german to french shouldn't germanify the text but rather frenchify the german language. This of course can be read in many different ways, but the most straightforward reading is one closely resembling the translator's note from Three Body Problem that keeps making the rounds on tumblr, and so what to some may seem like a groundbreaking new revelation in translation is indeed an idea that just recently celebrated its 100th birthday. Which is of course not to say that the Benjamin essay isn't valuable reading, but it is very clearly a document from a time where translation studies weren't established as a field yet and theoretic approaches to translation were mostly done by translator's explaining their choices or in the realm of philosophy, in both cases almost always on literary translation, leaving out vast areas of the field and often largely ignoring the material circumstances that affect the production of translations.
² Skopos Theory, coined by Hans Vermeer, is the idea that the deciding factor of a translation is its purpose, so who, why, when a given translator is translating for should decide the strategy and thus the criteria by which to judge the translation. A strategy that works for poetry doesn't necessarily work for dishwasher manuals and shouldn't be judged by its standards, to pick a blunt example.
Âł Benjamin, Trotsky, Costanza
ⴠRosemary Arrojo is a brasilian translatologist who contributed greatly to the field of translation studies. One of these contributions is an essay she published in response to french writer and feminist HÊlène Cixous' Reading with Clarice Lispector, a book describing a feminist approach to women's literature that, as Arrojo shows, merely takes advantage of the existing power relations, putting her own ideas into Lispector's mouth in the knowledge that rarely anyone in the imperial core will understand brasilian portuguese well enough to correct her on it. in reading Cixous, Jerry shows that he has indeed understood nothing and relies on his imperial core worldview in much the same way as Cixous.
âľ another contribution of Arrojo is the 1986 book OficĂna de Tradução, where in a chapter she likens translation to Cleopatra, who takes on new forms throughout the ages yet remains an idea in the public imaginary, much in the same way translation does. So it is easy to understand what is meant by "a coloniser" but why is it said the gf wanted Cleopatra? This is not difficult, like most reasonable ppl she is into femboys. why one would assume Jerry to take on the femboy role can easily be understood when reading Daniel Boyarin's Unheroic Conduct, so in spite of Jerry clearly being in the wrong, this leaves open the possibility of a misunderstanding of social roles that is mutual. George's comment ("you don't have the nose for it") makes playful reference to Elaine's plot, as having the nose for something ("den richtigen Riecher") is a german way of phrasing an instinctive understanding, that would be rendered in english as a "hunch" or "gut feeling", which Jerry clearly has neither for women nor for translatology. This is in character behaviour for George, see Seinfeld episodes The Pledge Drive, where he starts eating candy bars with knife and fork after Elaine talks about having seen Mr Pitt do it, and The Cartoon, where he dates a woman who looks exactly like Jerry. in tying Arrojo's translatological thought to Jerry's dainty Hollywood nose, so unlike Cleopatra's, this plotline translates core ideas of postcolonial translation into USamerican gendered body politics.
âś everyone knows what Anthropophagic Translation is