drunk in Fandoms

Due to a wildly misspent youth, I can actually answer this one! The answer is that they’re actually BOTH dressed for a Vogue editorial - the difference is that Crowley’s actually up-to-date and is wearing expensive clothing for the Graeco-Roman Mediterranean, while Aziraphale’s wearing expensive clothing for the nomadic Ancient Near East.

Aziraphale’s overcoat looks so ragged and patched because it’s lots of tanned skins sewn together - you can see it better HERE. He’s wearing the same linen clothing with golden beads at the neck that he wore in Mesopotamia three thousand years ago, but he’s added the skin coat and a turban. More skins = more animals. More linen = more work. Along with the gold, a very long tunic, a long coat (WITH SLEEVES), and a turban of a lot of material all indicate that Aziraphale is dressed very expensively, but very expensively for a Canaanite nomad in 3000 BCE. However, by 33 CE, the major indicator of wealth wasn’t the amount of material being used in clothing: it was the dye the material was coloured with. We think of black being a minimalist, ascetic colour, but right through to the Middle Ages, black was one of the most expensive clothing colours because of the sheer amount of dyes used to achieve it. Crowley’s veil and sash in particular are a deep black - that’s a large amount of dye that’s being used! (Crowley’s veil is also very sheer, meaning it’s either very fine linen or even silk, which was around in the West at this point but was desperately expensive) The difference between Crowley and Aziraphale in this scene is actually demonstrated by my very favourite Biblical mistranslation. Genesis 37:3 reads, “Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a ketonet passim.” This phrase is only used twice in the Tanakh, here, and to describe Tamar’s clothing in 2 Samuel 13:18-19. More importantly, this is the only use in the Torah. 

From context, we know that this item of clothing was special. In the English-speaking word, this is the “coat of many colours”, the “amazing technicolour dream coat”. But passim is more likely to mean “to the extremities” (i.e. hands or ankles), thus meaning a long coat, or a coat with sleeves. JUST LIKE WHAT AZIRAPHALE IS WEARING. 

When the Torah was being translated into Greek in Alexandria in about 250 BCE (the Nevi'im and the Ketuvim are translated later, often using whatever precedents for rare words were set by the translators of the Torah), the translator comes across this rare adjective, and thinks, “Fucked if I know what that means.” And they know from context that this coat is special and expensive, and they live in a world in which colour and dye are the main things that makes clothing special and expensive, so they write in poikilos (multi-coloured), and move on to the next sentence. 

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Show you care & Reblog.

Therapist: Listen, you do exist, and if you didn’t, someone would have to create you because the world would be a much sadder place.

Therapist: No.

Me: Wow.

Therapist: You’re just a fucked up bitch.

Me: I do agree with the fucked up bitch part.

Therapist: Considering what you told me and how much you wanna beat him to death, he’s not. You pretty much hate him despite knowing him for years.

Me:

Me: Why did I need to come here to realize that.

Therapist: Because that’s my job to help you to understand some stuff. Also because you’re way too kind and you would let someone punch you in the guts and still consider them as your friend while they stab you.

Therapist: Oh that’s nice!!... Oh my name is on it!!

Me: Yeah!!

Me: What-

Therapist: *turns his screen and show me THIS* 

Me: 

Me: Yeah, I went.

Therapist: Was it something you enjoyed?

Me: Mh. Yeah. Sorta.

Therapist: Did you see some bears?

Me:

Me: Jerome wh-

Me: No, I want it!!

Therapist: Finally, you’re not forcing yourself for the others! And you’re doing something you want! I’m proud of you!

Me: You’re more of a dad than my own father.

Therapist: I am not.

Me: Ooh.

Therapist: Or am I?

The secretary came to tell me that Jerome actually forgot to write me down on the appointment list.

Therapist: Oh, really, I never noticed. You know, you should turn that anger into indifference. It would help you.

Me: Like what? ‘Hey Joël wassup, I’ve been very suicidal lately last night I wanted to die. Hope you have rad vacations and the weed is good save some good kush for me, kissy kissy.’ ?

Therapist: Exactly.

Therapist: Can I touch you to prove you that you do?

Me: Dinner first.

Therapist:

Me: I’m broke.

Therapist: Oh yeah.

Therapist: You still need vacations tho.

Therapist, by text: Oh sorry. I didn’t see you.

Therapist, by text: Wait. Were you at the tattoo shop?

Therapist: So your friend lives in the same street than I?

Me: Yes. Town’s short I guess.

Therapist: Were you really going to your friend...?

Me: Yes?? Why else would I be here?

Therapist: Your appointment was this morning at 11:30am, Damien.

Me:

Me: I’m gonna get a rat and call him Jerome just to piss you off.

Therapist:

Me:

Therapist: Do you smoke?

From the DVD commentary, episode 3:  

Douglas Mackinnon: Little bit of magic. If you’re careful and you look at the beginning of that shot you’ll discover that Aziraphale isn’t in the car. And then suddenly he is.

Neil Gaiman: Did we magically CGI him or was he just sort of bending down?

Douglas Mackinnon: We CGIed him out. And the other thing that we should know about this car is that the morning that we shot this we - well it was David Tennant - broke the car. He broke the door on Aziraphale’s side, so you couldn’t get in or out of it anymore. It was stuck in, and there was actually a broken window.

Neil Gaiman: Which we had to CGI out.

Douglas Mackinnon: Yeah. So, at the end of the scene - although Aziraphale appears to get out of the car - he can’t.

Neil Gaiman: Because he couldn’t open or close the door.

Douglas Mackinnon: It was a directing cleverness to get him out.

But in “Zuko Alone”, when Zuko reveals his identity, one of the townspeople points to him and says (in disgust) “Hey I’ve heard of you. His own father burned and disowned him.”  A random Earth Kingdom man. In a small farming town in the middle of nowhere.

The details about Zuko’s banishment were known far and wide, but not inside the Fire Nation. The Fire Nation citizens and soldiers were probably fed some sanitized version of the story wherein Ozai simply had to banish his own treacherous, cowardly son. 

Zuko was hated abroad as a member of Fire Nation royalty, and hated in his own nation as a brat and a traitor.

I give it MASCLES

And I wanna stress that when i say “top of the leg” i’m not talking about the crotch (please don’t flag me tumblr it’s an anatomical term) i’m talking about the point where the femur connects to the pelvis, which is higher up on the hips:

It’s easier to see what I’m talking about in this photo of a man squatting: 

So yeah if you use that measurement when using this technique you should get fairly realistically proportioned legs:

But remember! messing with proportions is an important and fun part of character design! Know the rules first so you can then break them however you please!

He’s very smart, and believes the best in people, which makes him very gullible.

but at the same time he thinks dolphins are fish.

They are usually at their max intelligence when in seperate buildings.

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Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

Archbishop James Ussher claimed that the Heaven and the Earth were created on Sunday, the 21st of October, 4004 BC, at 9:00 a.m. This too was incorrect, by almost a quarter of an hour. It was created at 9:13 in the morning. Which was correct. The whole business with the fossilised dinosaur skeletons was a joke the palaeontologists haven’t seen yet.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EARTH!!!

and :): 

Her name is Laetitia Ky and she’s only 23! 😍😍 I’ve already seen a white girl steal her idea so let’s promote tf out of the OG.

Her IG

Yeah people without DID who try to use the disorder for horror/thriller purposes fail at it because they don’t understand how DID actually effects people and their lives and behavior and relationships

In fact every piece of dramatic media I can think of that depicts DID kinda relies on the audience not understanding how DID actually works

And if the audience being educated ruins their suspension of disbelief, you’ve fucked up

like in Split they’re all “different alters have different biological realities” as some kind of edgy “what if the hulk but real” thing, and as far as I know, the idea that different alters have different physiologies is not accepted by modern psychology, and was likely falsified by an extremely abusive, immoral, and sadistic psychologist who gave his patients dangerous experimental drugs just to see how they would react, and then when the patients complained of trouble breathing or heart problems, this doctor told the nurses that it was all part of ~multiple personality disorder~ so that they wouldn’t like. I don’t know. Tell someone that this doctor was poisoning his patients in a wholly unscientific manner for apparent shits and giggles.

So yeah, that such a good sign for that movie huh?? //sarc

Look I don’t have DID, but I did live with someone who did for a year. It barely affected me. The person told me because they assumed I would notice something odd if we were living together, but tbh if he hadn’t I probably wouldn’t have thought anything except maybe that he was forgetful and disorganized.

I only ever knowingly interacted with one alter, who a psychologist might describe as an “angry part”, as sometimes alters experience limited emotions and are classified as “emotional parts”. This is the kind of alter that movies like Split want you to think is a rage-crazy murder monster with no impulse control.

The real-life “angry alter” my roommate had? I mean he was kind of a dick. He always seemed generally pissed off but he wasn’t a threat to me. I think he maybe wasn’t very nice to my roommate but since that happened internally I never saw, I could only guess. Hardly a hulk-like sex murderer.

And actually the majority times I talked to this alter I didn’t even know it. Because usually he made a point of acting like my roommate so that no one would give the system any trouble. Because DID is a highly specialized, involuntary coping mechanism created to protect a victim of trauma or abuse. Alters form so that the victim can continue with their life and grow and develop. If all alters were dangerous volatile monsters that you could easily tell the difference between at a glance, they wouldn’t be a very effective defense mechanism.

So I would talk to my roommate as usual, and then like an hour later he would be like “whoa how long have I been gone, what was my body doing all day” and I would be like uhhh I literally don’t know dude if you hadn’t said that I wouldn’t have realized you weren’t the one fronting all day.

In Split it’s like “if I lose control of my alters they kidnap and murder people!!!” and meanwhile in reality it’s more like….. System needed to go to class today but Alter B was fronting when it was time to leave for class and they didn’t feel like going, so the whole system missed out on class and that sucks.

And when alters do hurt people its…. pretty much always the body of the system. There are suicidal and self-harming alters for sure. But I’ve never found a medically or scientifically valid article or study about homicidal alters. And certainly not alters who carry out complex kidnapping plots of multiple people.

“Sex?” Crowley says. “Oh, yes. We have sex, don’t we, angel? Loads of sex. The sexiest of sex.”

“Yes, yes,” Aziraphale agrees, nodding quickly as he tries to think of what he can remember of human mating rituals. “He’s brought me some very nice rocks. Can hardly say no in the face of such nice specimens, isn’t that right?”

No, no, that isn’t right–

“Rocks? Listen to this one,” Crowley says, thumbing at Aziraphale as he laughs. “There weren’t any rocks, angel. You danced for me, remember? Very colorful and beautiful, I found his moves adequate enough for the task.”

Oh, Aziraphale thinks, that sounds more like it.

“Yes, of course,” he says, “how could I forget? A wild night, for sure, that one. We both ended up pregnant from that one, didn’t we?”

Right, Crowley thinks, humans have babies.

“Yep,” he says emphatically. “Loads of kids, the two of us. Can’t tell you how many descendants we have running around.”