My Name is 8 PM. and I am always arriving when you atrent Looking
M Nm s 8 PM. nd m lws rrvng whn y trnt Lkng
8.y
I o a a i's ooa eo
if you two had a baby it would be a regular sentence. or perhaps silence.
Right.

"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price

titsay

shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)
trying on a metaphor
wallacepolsom


Discoholic 🪩
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature

oozey mess

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
RMH

Kaledo Art
seen from United States

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@mrtheking
My Name is 8 PM. and I am always arriving when you atrent Looking
M Nm s 8 PM. nd m lws rrvng whn y trnt Lkng
8.y
I o a a i's ooa eo
if you two had a baby it would be a regular sentence. or perhaps silence.
Right.

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I hate that when you’re stressed enough your body just starts falling apart. I think it should realize you’re already stressed and don’t need that and start functioning better actually
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as “problematic” in class and our professor was like, “That’s cool, but ‘problematic’ doesn’t really mean anything. It means that the thing you’re describing has a problem, and in and of itself that’s not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else it’s not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like you’re trying to say that this is bad, but you don’t want to say ‘bad.’ Is that right?”
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the “bad” thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, “I’m uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.”
Once we stopped calling things “problematic” and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, “that’s racist” or “that’s misogynistic” or “ew capitalism gross” out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, “Uhhh... I’m not sure what’s so bad?” and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I can’t help but think of this professor being like, “Good starting point, now let’s get specific.” I think when we have to commit to saying “that’s ___” it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever we’re claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes it’s art, and it should be full of problems, because that’s what art is.
Concentric Diamond Arrangement

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Happy Pride!
Every pride, you must reblog this. No exceptions
I love that four different people on my feed scheduled this joyous person to reblog by 8am on June 1. I look forward to seeing this a dozen more times today.
We need to stop treating normal things like autism or depression like disabilities. Like, yeah, they're disabilities, but not becuase of the condition itself, because of the society built to make it so.
Racism, Homophobia/transphobia, ableism, and fascist ideology are the real mental disease. If you literally can't be normal about a brown person exsisting you are a danger to others and should be institutionalized and I'm serious.
Not entirely. Some aspects of autism and depression are just genuinely disabling no matter the circumstances, and need to be considered as such. Especially when considering those of us with higher support needs, many of which have sensory issues with everyday materials or intellectual disabilities that can't be separated from their autism.
Our society definitely is not geared towards neurodivergence or otherwise general inclusivity, and that can make certain usually non-disabling conditions into real disabilities. But that doesn't make autism not a disability for many folks.
The FBI cut the phone lines during the 1977 disability rights sit-in. Then they turned off the hot water.
They locked the doors from the outside. One hundred and fifty people were trapped on the fourth floor. Half of them used wheelchairs. The government assumed they would leave.
Kitty Cone was thirty-three. She had muscular dystrophy. Her muscles were failing, but her logistics were flawless. She knew how to organize people.
The federal government had promised to sign regulations protecting disabled Americans from discrimination. The policy was known as Section 504. They printed the promise on paper. Then they stalled. Without a signature, it was just typography.
The protesters entered the regional Health, Education, and Welfare building in San Francisco on a Tuesday morning. They took the elevators to the director's office. They brought sleeping bags and catheters. They informed the staff they were not leaving until the law was signed.
By sunset, the police surrounded the exits. Kitty sat near the windows. She organized the floor plan. She assigned committees for security and sanitation. She kept her medication in a small cooler.
According to federal memorandums released decades later, the strategy to end the occupation relied on medical attrition. The building was not equipped for long-term habitation. The FBI calculated that a population requiring ventilators, specialized diets, and daily medical aides would voluntarily evacuate if the environment became sufficiently hostile. They instituted a blockade.
The blockade went into effect immediately. No food deliveries allowed. No medical supplies permitted through the lobby. Guards stood at the main doors checking identification.
Kitty's muscles deteriorated faster under the physical strain. She couldn't walk. When the phone lines went dead, the fourth floor lost contact with the press. The government waited for the quiet.
Kitty dropped to the floor. She realized the barricades were designed for standing adults. The police had blocked the hallways at waist height. They hadn't blocked the linoleum.
The floors were covered in cigarette ash and spilled coffee. She dragged her body through it. She crawled under the barricades to reach the restricted elevator shafts and unguarded offices.
She carried notes in her pockets. She found a single working payphone the FBI missed. She called the local news desks. She called the mayor's office.
She crawled back. When her arms failed, someone pulled her by her ankles. The Black Panthers heard the news reports. They crossed the police lines with hot meals. The FBI could not stop them without a riot.
They shut off the elevators, so she crawled.
The occupation lasted twenty-five days. It remains the longest non-violent occupation of a federal building in American history. On April 28, the Secretary of HEW signed the regulations without a single alteration.
The protesters left the building the next morning. They went back to their apartments. The Rehabilitation Act regulations laid the groundwork for every accessibility law that followed. The HEW building still stands on United Nations Plaza. The elevators run on a schedule. The doors are heavy glass.
Kitty Cone: the woman who crawled under the barricades.
Source: Kitty Cone's oral history, Bancroft Library.
Verified via: National Museum of American History.
(Some details summarized for brevity.)
[id: black n white picture of Kitty Cone. text read “The FBI shut off the water. The elevators were locked. She dropped to the floor.” end id]
I hate it when you’re reading smut and you can’t figure out what position they’re in.
sometimes it just ends up being something like
ITS BACK
Y’ALL NEED JESUS
Please stop reblogging this post
nah whenever this appears on my dash i laugh for years
HAAAA
wow I love to sit crosslegged without moving for several hours straight!
okay time to straighten my legs man I'm so excited
I f eel like a suit of armour that was attacked by a welder
I am nineteen years old
I am so sorry I just turned 20 I hope you can forgive me
. yeah okay true I did do that

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The ocean molded this clump of bricks into a rock shape
via
real life texture glitch
Domesticated rock has returned to the wild and become feral
Domesticated
rock has returned to the wild
and become feral
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
sisyphean slip: getting the same word wrong over and over again
freudian complex: the incorrect belief that every human being on earth has the same wierd kink as you
oedipus’ boulder: trying to prove over and over again that you don’t want to fuck your own mother
White lies 🐝
I'M CALLING IT RIGHT NOW THIS IS GOING TO AGE VERY WELL AFTER EPISODE 8
how was this made before episode 8 like genuinely

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Sparkle on! It's Wednesday! Don't forget to be yourself, Jerma!
Every now and again someone reblogs this and I am haunted by the fact that almost every big name streamer and jerma himself and notable voice actors and apparently the fucking spongebob squarepants art team have referenced this picture I made and I only have 4k notes on it
Gargantuan lore drop but I NEED a source on that SpongeBob one
You got it boss. From the episode "bubble bass reviews" in 2023
Using my power as a gimmick blog to spread the ORIGINAL post even more far and wide because how the hell does this only have 5kish notes. Please. What.
Oh no it’s one of my hyperfixations.
So fun fact I am currently in school to learn how to build affordable housing. They don’t teach you how to murder strip malls so I must learn this on my own. Someday the two will fuse and I will be an angel of death for shopping centers. This is my calling.
There have been attempts to turn malls into affordable housing. Sadly retrofitting commercial properties into habitable living spaces is usually more expensive than just making a new building. All that big empty space with uniform climate control is cool and all but it’s not habitable living quarters. you know what it’s GREAT for????
HYPER-LOCAL AGRICULTURE BAYBEEEEEEE
Indoor farming got a bad rep recently because it couldn’t become profitable fast enough to satisfy the capitalists funding it. But these places have loads of height for more space-efficient vertical farms, and while plants won’t need the blasted AC of most shopping malls, they probably do appreciate a steady climate (something that’s getting harder to find outdoors).
“But wait,” you say, “the food court has all those fully outfitted kitchens. It would be a waste not to incorporate that into daily living.”
hello????????? Literal farm-to-table restaurants that grow their vegetables right across the hallway are you KIDDING ME??????????????? (better keep that shit cheap tho no gentrification on my watch)
“But wait wait wait,” you say again, “how can it be *local* farming when there’s no housing nearby? Also this isn’t about food we need fucking housing????”
I hear you, man, I hear you. But you know what is right around a shopping mall? Acres upon acres of the most depressing use of land in history: fucking dog shit crusty ass empty fucking parking lots.
The amount of space these bad boys take up is STAGGERING, and it’s often enough to fit an entire neighborhood. Just check out what this one architect in Maine did to replan the Portland mall (they won an award for it):
*everything on that map that’s in color is currently flat cement*
One mid-sized mall in Maine can fit an entire downtown area WITH GREEN SPACE in its parking lot, and *still have room for parking.*
So yeah, the housing in malls idea is cool thinking. Think bigger. WAY bigger.
Think of all the space strip malls and their parking lots take up. Imagine all that space becoming housing and small businesses and third spaces and NATURE.
These stores are dying fast. The real estate is cheap as fuck. It is extremely doable within the next decade. We just have to fucking do it.
i have a suggestion
love this.