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@pelennorfeels
welcome to my blog im annoying

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Gideon the Ninth movie finishes, curtains close, and the music over the aftercredits is a somber cover of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up
Happy Xehanort Holding An Umbrella Day.
*explaining the backrooms to my grandmother*
see how your hallway looks like my childhood? that's called liminal. you are what's known as an "entity"

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People on the internet love to criticize work by Some Guy with zero institutional power like it's made by Disney Studios, and talk about Disney movies like they're made by their personal friend Amy, who is just trying her best,
So. On the subject of eridians being [nervous laughter] what the fuck about humans, Grace is talking senses over with researchers. Obviously we have sight, and they share having a sense of taste (I think someone mentioned eridians DONT have smell?), we share touch and hearing, even if they’re different… Scientists are like okay anything else and Grace is like hmm…no—wait! Some people can sense physical space and direction. Not with sound or sight, with some other thing.
The researches, who watched Rocky have to redirect Grace three times on their way through the building and then trip over nothing coming into the room: what
Grace waxing poetic about an old hiking buddy he had at home who always knew where north was, sun or no. About playing with Carl in the hardware store. Shows them videos of west coast swing competitions, pro basketball, WHEELCHAIR basketball. Kids playing Blind Man’s Bluff. Tells them about all the sports we develop around Navigate In Wilderness like it’s FUN for us to try to find our way around space and some humans are freakishly good at it. And yes we have words for it (proprioception), but no we don’t 100% know how it works or why some of us are so much better at it than others.
And the scientists doing whatever the listening equivalent of staring is at Grace like how did we end up with a human deficient in at least two of their main senses HEY EARTH CAN YOU SEND ONE THATS NOT BROKEN
put out some water to boil then accidentally fell asleep and when i woke up there was a terrible smell and no water in the pot. so in a sense i succeeded at boiling water. perhaps more than i ever have
Fascinated by the person who saw me reading Simon Sebag Montefiore’s Jerusalem: A Biography in public, then came up to me and gave me a pamphlet for finding Jesus. Thank you, sir, I literally have a map of everywhere he lived in front of me as we speak. The man is not lost.
image description: dril tweet, reading: does any one know where i could find some Unsolicited advice? preferably from people with weird personality disorders who dont know anything /end description

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every time there’s a viral post about Magnus Hirschfeld that fails to mention he was jewish and nazi hatred of his work (and queerness as a whole) was a cause and effect of nazis blaming jews for any and all ‘degeneracy’ i want to Scream Yell Scream. you cannot should not separate what happened to him from that what do you mean ‘remember! they didn’t just hate jews they also-‘ HE WAS JEWISHHHH !!!! he was openly jewish and that’s a large part of why he was persecuted so heavily!!!! why are you leaving that out!!! he is not fodder for your ‘ugh those meanie jews are always so greedy and make the holocaust all about them 😠’ inversion
idk man I'm thinking a lot about the discourse being reported in this post and my own post about crushes, which has garnered a lot of responses like this one
and I don't know exactly what to do with this yet but I'm fascinated, in a really upsetting way, by the way some of these people seem to conceptualize romantic and/or sexual attraction as an act of violation that no one should do to people they like and care about. if nothing else it raises some really compelling questions about what they think actually goes on between people who have sex and/or romantic bonds with each other if that's not supposed to be something that happens between friends.
normal stuff happening in the replies
oh my god I'm doing patriarchy now
This just in, "having feelings, regardless of how or whether you act upon them, is an aggressive, patriarchal act." 🙄
Saying this as gently as possible: if you have any of the above reactions to finding out that someone has romantic feelings for you, that's on you, not on them, and your reactions are both evidence of trauma and not something you should encourage in yourself. Please seek help and healing.
The core appeal of Willy Wonka is that he's a nigh-omnipotent maniac who uses his near limitless powers over reality to trick shitty people into killing themselves. You can't make him the protagonist of a whimsical coming of age tale - you have to treat him like Jason Voorhees, or Dracula, or any other horror icon. Give him some new victims and new interesting kills and set him loose, that's all audiences want.
I feel like I watched a somewhat different movie...
Gene lobbied hard for Wonka to be introduced as a feeble limping old man who suddenly falls into a forward somersault and leaps to his feet, because "from that moment on the audience won't know if he can be trusted." On a related note: the director told Gene what would happen during the boat scene, but none of the other actors were prepared; to this day, none of them are sure what he ad libbed and what was scripted.
My favorite detail, though, is his performance of Pure Imagination. On the surface, the song is charming and inviting, but if you look closely at him throughout the scene, you'll notice that Gene never blinks. He looks around, down at his feet, up at the trees; his eyes never fully close. He moves erratically, stuttering up and down the steps of the chocolate room. The lyrics are warm and friendly, but his face is blank. He bows to permit his visitors to run amok, but his posture is stiff. He helps Violet and Mike reach a couple of treats, but there is no joy in the gesture. The final post-chorus feels like a dirge, a threat, and a warning, all at once; Wonka sits in repose under a tree, but his eyes are glassy and dispassionate. "There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination; / living there / you'll be free / if you truly / wish / to be.......... "
Fantasy in excess, like anything else, will destroy you; that's the real message of Gene Wilder's Wonka. He taunts his guests with unrepentant disdain, and doesn't care if they live or die. He toys with their emotions, their safety, and their grip on reality, feeling no regret or remorse, no pity, no compassion. Fantasy is colorful and compelling, but it's false, and ultimately empty. Wonka is a walking maladaptive daydream, and as far as I'm concerned, that's the real reason the 1971 film has endured in the culture for so long.
Wait, I'm expanding my "Mary Poppins vs. Bugs Bunny" trickster spectrum here.
I am not immune to behemoth Adrian propaganda

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I took your skull off display because my guests kept saying it looked noticeably gayer than the other skulls
Adam Lister, “Flowers in a Glass Vase” Watercolour on paper, Size: 40 x 50cm