Enby Envy

You may need to learn how to set up your paints and such… but this is what people did, live, while the show aired. That’s what the show was for. I had family members create lovely works of art they enjoyed, which I still have on my walls, because William Alexander and Bob Ross both said:

SCREW METICULOUS CLASSICAL ART PRACTICES — JUST GRAB A PALETTE KNIFE AND BIG OLD BRUSH AND PAINT!

They freed a whole generation of people who were taught to paint detail and realism and exact representation of reality — people who largely gave up this kind of thing because it got tedious.

I watched the joy of family members as they rediscovered art as a messy fun spontaneous half hour activity.

"All Star" is an oldie.

HAPPY FIVE YEARS OF GOD OF AREPO COMIC!!

Seriously this is still one of my favorite things I've ever made, and I go back regularly and read all the nice comments you guys have left (sometimes they make me cry). Now that tumblr's image limit is 30, I thought it'd be nice to have the whole comic in one post <3

Also I don't sell any copies, I don't think it would be fair to make money off a story I didn't write, so if you'd like the high-res images to print out yourself (for Personal use ONLY) you can email me at [email protected] or I have a form on my website where you can send me a message :)

And if you like my art you can support me on Ko-Fi or follow me on Instagram!

Fatness, like singlehood, is seen at large as a state of failure. Everybody is supposed to want to be [thin / partnered], and if you are not, that is a personal failure on your part, and you are pathetic and mock-worthy. The popular idea is that of course everybody wants to be [thin / partnered], and everybody is striving towards the goal, and anybody who is not [thin / partnered] is either temporarily inconvenienced on their way to correctness, or has something fundamentally wrong with them. And because [fatness / singlehood] is something that is treated as fixable, if you have not fixed it, then there is something wrong with you—and thus discriminating against you is acceptable, because your [fatness / singlehood] is based on your own bad choices.

The world is, in some cases quite literally, not built for fat or single people. If you are fat or single, the world is much more difficult or expensive to live in, because it is structurally designed for the assumption that you are thin or that you have a partner. The normative Person, after all, is thin and romantically partnered. If you are not thin or not romantically partnered, there is something fundamentally less human about you.

[Fatness / singlehood] is something embarrassing, something worth mocking others over, something that reflects your fundamental unworthiness. Every fictional hero is thin, every fictional happy ending ends with romance. Everyone in your life is either quietly or not-so-quietly worried about you.

People calling us pedophiles, saying our discourse isn’t appropriate for the workplace/public life, that we’re trying to sexualize children, etc etc etc

Anyone of any orientation can be single, and subject to this kind of discrimination; ace and aro people can have partners, and once they have partners generally not subject to this sort of discrimination for being single.

People have pointed out that that anti-LGBTQ bigotry is also very often framed as “disapproval” of “a lifestyle choice” but I see that as having a different tenor: bigotry for something you’re perceived as spitefully and maliciously choosing to actively do, rather than lazily lacking moral fiber and being a failure to live up to normality.

The anti-ace and anti-aro bigotry you describe is more along the lines of other anti-queer bigotries: you’re a deviant, you’re a freak, you’re a sexual menace, you’re brainwashed, you’re butting in where you don’t belong, there is something deep inside your body or soul that’s wrong and needs to be fixed. And obviously both can be going at once! Which is a distinction—or maybe a spectrum of arguments—that I’m making here: fatphobia and anti-single discrimination work on the “you have the choice and could just stop any time” model, but it’s about stepping up and joining normal people, rather than stopping your active sin of being a deviant on purpose. Failure rather than deviancy.

Do we count this as a passive rickroll?

You may have liked your artwork or you may have been like 'meh, not my best work', but literal hundreds of generations after you died, a person speaking a language you cannot understand, living in a future so alien to you that you couldn't possibly imagine it, made a sculpture of your art and shared it with thousands and thousands of people on a communication network that uses lightening inside flattened rocks and invisible waves of light that travels to where the stars live and back. And they all love it. Everyone who sees it is like 'aww, that's nice' or 'holy shit I love this'.

They never knew. They, their kids, and their kid's kids never knew that this would happen to that art.

“Haunted,” the tired young man corrected. “I have ghosts, not bedbugs.”

“Good thing too,” she winked. “I wouldn’t know how to get rid of the latter for you.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “But your problem I can solve. Give my team twenty-four hours, or twelve if you’re willing to wait until the next full moon, and we’ll have your house cleansed top to bottom. Tell you what. If it turns out there’s more than four in there, I’ll give you the bulk discount too.”

“There’s six,” the young man replied. “But I do not want the whole house cleansed. I only want you to remove three of them.”

The medium-turned-businesswoman looked up from the form she had wanted to hand him. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t want the whole house cleansed, I don’t want it to be spiritually uninhabitable.”

“You-” She gaped. “Why on earth wouldn’t you want to sweep the hole house?”

Even through the fatigue on his face the young man looked indignant. “Because there’s kids in there!”

Her lips moved silently around unspoken words. “There’s…”

“Kids in there!” he repeated. “Children! Three of them. Two little ones and their older sibling, I think. They haven’t talked to me yet.”

“Sir, you’re talking about ghosts,” she emphasized.

“I’m talking about children,” he said stubbornly. “And I’m not throwing them out. They’re more scared of the others than I am!” He shook his head. “No, the wailing one in the attic and the two who keep scratching at the windows and leaving wet footprints on the carpet definitely need to go, there’s no reasoning with them. But the kids stay. If you can’t guarantee their safety during your procedure I will find someone else to help me.”

Never in her twelve years on the job— “Well,” she said hesitantly, looking at her potential client rather more nervously than before. “I suppose I could call in a colleague to…I presume some sort of personalized ward would do it.” She crossed her arms. “But this is highly irregular! It means a custom job. I won’t be able to give you a reliable estimate of the price, and it’s certainly going to cost you!”