Wilczyca (or The Wolf, 1983, dir. Marek Piestrak)
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Wilczyca (or The Wolf, 1983, dir. Marek Piestrak)

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dream bed
Hello!
Howdy!
I’d like, uh, two normal rolls.
Sure thing!
And one with the… With the pumpkin seeds.
Which do you mean?
The one with the… With the seeds.
What are they called?
Uhm… A, uh, “crunchy pumpky.”
Sure thing. Would you like anything else?
Uhh… I’ll also take a, uh… A… A Nutella donut…?
Unfortunately, I don’t know at all what you mean…
A… One of those right there!
You really must tell me, what’s it called??
I… I’m… I’m a dumb piece of shit.
Sure thing! Anything else?
That one there?
You know what you need to do. [Here she switches from the formal, customer service voice to addressing him casually and familiarly.]
I… I’m a little greedy pig, oink oink?
Do it!
[grunts like a pig]
That comes to €13.50, please! Have a beautiful day!
Hello! I’d like an “I hate my father” and two “I have a small willi—” [The word that gets cut off is Pimmel, an un-sexy term for penis.]
For the love of god if your native language is different from the majority language of the country you’re living in don’t raise your baby speaking the local language. Either have each parent speak to them in a different language or only speak your native language at home. The kid will be okay. Get your native language in their head. You may think you’re helping them in the long term giving them the local language but no. When they’re an adult they’ll wonder why you never taught them your language. They can and will learn the local language in school. They’ll be okay. Produce more bilingual children. They are good for society.
And also, being bilingual helps with executive function. Not all kids have to reach the same language development at the same time as everyone else, it’s okay to have your kid speaking in more complex sentences a month or so later than the “normal” kids.
I've studied the science linguistically but I'd like to put that aside. PLEASE teach your kid the native language. It can go so much deeper than "wondering why", it can create a schism-like pain when you know there's a heritage you have but all access has been cut off. Yes, ALL. If you're fortunate enough to visit the country of your native language but dont teach your kid, they will be miserable, quiet, and alone, and go through difficult phases of hating that heritage because the ladders were cut for them.
And in the United States, this starts young. I've seen teachers tell a Kazakhstani parent that she should tell her kid to speak English INSTEAD. The kid was 2 and a half. A friend's five year old told him "Dad this is America we dont speak Chinese". If you don't teach your kid your native language this country will wrest all pride and heritage from them by force. An occasional visit or two to the home country will not stop the bleeding.
The pain of not speaking the language of my heritage is something I don't wish on anyone. And that language is one of the most spoken in the world, imagine if your native language is rarer. What happens? What happens?
When you read this post in a different context than the US, everything is very confusing until you realize it's written from a US perspective where being bilingual is something almost exclusive of the children of immigrants.
There are millions and millions of us for whom our native language is very much not the majority language of our country, but at the same time is our local language (and the majority language acts as our second language).
There are endangered languages on every continent of the world because people teach their children the majority language instead of their native language so I very much doubt that this problem doesn’t exist where you are.
Tumblr user forgets that immigrants exist.
the Cc in emails stands for Cuck chair

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replica by alessio carnevali // st. mary magdalene from the santa lucia triptych, painted c1470 by carlo crivelli
in a galaxy far, far away
speak now or forever hold your peace
James Baldwin

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Nigerian Pride 🏳️🌈🇳🇬
I meant to have this out yesterday. Happy belated pride. :)
whenever I tell a story I feel like Uncle Colm from Derry Girls
i love you semicolon. no one look at my 80 word sentence
getting diagnosed with alcoholism because of the scratch marks around my robot girlfriend's usb pussy

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There have been attempts to read the facts of the abuse backward into [Alice] Munro’s fiction, pointing out all of the ways the stories are about repression and thwarted confession and the abuse and maiming of children. What I find remarkable is that what so many of us love in Munro’s fiction is the way she reveals how common and small we all are, how at bottom, we are capable of true ugliness and viciousness, that this is not the province of sneering villains but the woman on the corner or the man in the fast car or the quiet old lady in her house in the woods—what amazes me is that we can acknowledge this and yet be confused when confronted with a real-world example of someone who seemed remarkable but who is simply selfish and small. I have read a lot of confused tweets and articles, trying to figure out “how could she do this?” as though it is some grand mystery. It is not. At least not to me. She had a choice to believe and protect her daughter in the face of the revelations, even after her daughter, decades later, took [Gerald] Fremlin [Alice Munro's second husband] to court and won, but she chose to stay. And people seem amazed by that. What kind of mother? What kind of person? What kind of woman? etc. Well, any kind of mother. Any kind of person. Any kind of woman. She made a choice and justified it to herself through any number of inversions or self-delusions, who can say. But is this really so shocking? People do this every day. My own family did this. I saw it play out first hand. People are capable of justifying anything. Being a brilliant writer does not elevate one above the common smallness of being a person. To grasp for some justification as though there must be some brilliant dark inner turning of the mind that will explain it as opposed to accepting it as the everyday course of life, I mean…that, to me, betrays a lack of understanding of human nature, particularly the one advanced by Munro’s work. Undoubtedly in the weeks and months to come, people will say “it’s complicated” and “it’s complex” and “separate the artist from the art.” I disagree. It is not complicated. It is not complex. Alice Munro stayed with the man who molested her daughter. Not only that, but she stayed with a man who, when confronted with his information, wrote the family letters explaining how the child victim was in fact a “homewrecker” and seducer. Not only that, but she expressed a justification in choosing her own happiness because after all, what had been done had been done. This is the most characteristic thing Munro could have said. In her stories, epiphany and revelation often take the form of accepting the crude and brutal terrain of the past for what it is and setting one’s shoulder to wheel to get on with living. What I love about her stories is that they come with an aftermath. They dare to offer the reader a glimpse into that rarely seen world to come. When the choice has been made and one has to get on with it. I was told too late. I loved him too much. Is that not the most Alice Munro thing you have ever read? Furthermore, it’s a kind of thinking I was raised among. It’s how I got through much of the abuse and trauma of my own life. Well, that’s that. Anyway. Not a shrug. But a setting the shoulder against the stone and pushing onward. It is a kind of thinking common to the rural poor and the working poor, among whom and by whom I was raised. I have struggled for a long time in trying to explain it. It is a world without history. Not a world without a past. But a world without a history, which is a story we tell ourselves about the past. Among my people, the rural and working poor, to make a history out of the past is taboo. To speak of a thing done is to make too much of it. To be fishing for sympathy, and for what, when there’s nothing to be done about it anyway.
— Brandon Taylor, what i'm doing about alice munro: why i hate art monster discourse (10 July 2024)
like in general making care work dependent on sentimentality is a fucking bad idea lol, to some extent you can't really prevent the fact that people interacting with one another will probably feel some type of way about each other but esp when you are taking on a role where people depend on you for basic bodily care tasks, necessary medications, proper performance of potentially dangerous procedures &c it's not actually about YOU or your feelings at all & the more you make it into that type of ego trip looking for self satisfaction because youre soooooo self sacrificing and empathetic and you love your patients sooooooooo much -- the less you actually see & think about & serve those patients. never confuse personal fondness for evidence you are doing right by that person -- completely irrelevant & not at all protective against or mutually exclusive of abuse. people who are disliked or dislikable also need care! you signed up to provide it to them. if you cannot do bear to do that and do it fucking well then find a different job