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the fact that tangled has a perfect set-up for major miscommunication between rapunzel and eugene to be the final emotional climax of the movie (βwhyβd you leave meβ) but instead sidesteps that in favor of a beautiful battle between the two of them in which they try to out-sacrifice each other because they love and understand each other that much. the fact that they each try to save the other using the best means theyβve got at their disposal, the ones theyβve used their whole lives: rapunzel bargaining with mother gothel and promising away pieces of herself- this time all of herself- in exchange for his safety, Eugene pulling one final scam and trick when he feigns tenderly touching her face so he can actually cut off all her hair and set her free. the fact that Eugeneβs plan works but as a result he dies, Flynn dies. (he told us this at the beginning, βthis is the story of how I diedβ but remember- itβs a fun story.) The fact that the swashbuckling rogue and trickster and thief Flynn DIES so that rapunzel, the girl who never got to have a life, can LIVE. The fact that after one final successful trick Flynn dies so Eugene, little lost orphan boy, can rise again in his final and only role as a good man and as rapunzelβs husband- all of these make tangled the masterpiece it is. in this essay I will
OP whereβs the essaaaaay
What unites Eugene and Rapunzel, what forms the basis of their connection, is not just their lonely, isolated, unloved childhoods but the mechanisms they each used and still use to try to fill the voids in their lives. And those mechanisms boil down to- keeping busy, whatever the cost. Rapunzelβs opening song is literally a montage of her desperate attempts to fill an otherwise empty day (and empty life) and Eugene steals for the riches, sure, but mostly for the adventure, the thrill, the chase. The motion and color of it and the ways in which it is the opposite of boredom, the opposite of emptiness.Β
They are both resourceful and determined, used to doing the best they can with what they have, and as a result they encounter each other and decide to team up. Practicality, not romance, is what drives them together and what keeps them together for much of the movie.
Their methods of filling voids with whatever scheme they can concoct, the skills theyβve both gained from their past experiences, become the means they use to achieve their shared goal: get Rapunzel to the city to watch the floating lights and return her safely home. The scrapes and (mis)adventures they get into on their way are not just filler or fluff; they are opportunities to highlight the natural teamwork they have, the ways in which they complement and complete each other and so help each other: Rapunzel solves the run-in with the group of thugs/misfits with vulnerability and openness; together, they escape from the guards and avoid drowning.Β
Already this is an improvement on their previous work, their previous βbusinessβ. It has more warmth, it has more success, it has more color. But thatβs not all. Alongside their adventures, they start to talk to each other. Confide in each other. Nothing huge or dramatic. When he tells her his name he follows it with the dryly delivered βsomeone might as well knowβ. And when he asks about the situation at home, his voice is gentle and kind but not full of depth of feeling just yet. But itβs real, honest connection about their pasts and so contains within it the articulation of their emptiness. Itβs the realest relationship either of them have ever had. Itβs far realer than anything their past endeavors have ever brought them.
When they reach the lights, Rapunzel realizes this and it comes out in her words expressing her fears and worries about the lights. Understandably, sheβs scared finally seeing the lights wonβt be enough. But then, and hereβs the beautiful thing, sheβs scared that it will be.Β βAnd what if it is,β she says, tears in her eyes and voice. βWhat then?β This is the moment in which Rapunzel recognizes that she really has never filled the void in her life, the place where real love and human connection should be, and that the lights wonβt do it either. Chasing the lights was her noblest effort yet, a beautiful and real and a valid dream, but still not enough. because the lights are not a person and the lights canβt love her back.Β
Eugeneβs answer to this is hopeful- thereβs always another dream to chase. But he still doesnβt really have an answer for her. He doesnβt really understand.
Until they see the lights.Β
Until they see the lights together.Β
Their golden glow and beauty is enchanting, itβs everything she dreamed it would be. And then, itβs more.Β
And itβs more because when she turns around, right at the end of the first verse, she sees him. Holding her dream in her hands, watching her watch it, experiencing it with her.Β
Thatβs when she knows.Β
She hands him the satchel and he knows he knows too.Β
He knows that there is no new dream, no better dream, than her, than a real life of love with the person in front of him.Β
After the lights happens everything I said in the original post. Theyβre torn apart and beautifully, magically, unexpectedly Mother Gothelβs ploy to sow discord between them doesnβt work. Rapunzel sees through Mother Gothelβs lie to see the truth of everything, including his reasons for leaving, and when he shows up there is no reproach or misunderstanding to clear away. Like I said in my original post, they understand each other now.Β
And like I said in the post above, Rapunzelβs bargaining for his life and Eugeneβs cutting off of her hair are the means they use to set the other free. And ultimately Eugene wins. He dies and his death, the first time she truly experiences loss, opens her up to a fuller understanding of and use of her magic and her healing. He is restored to her and they live (truly) happily ever after.
But my point with all of this is, the heart of the story and its own specific magic, is that their skills and habits and means- whatever the word we want to use is- garnered by each of their efforts to fill their life with meaning finally fulfilled their true purpose, finally made them happy. Because they stopped being the end goal of their lives and became the means to their true purpose- the life and love they have with each other.Β
so many great things about the βiβd let him do open heart surgery on me if he wantedβ quote, but i love that itβs another case of grace displacing his wants onto the other person. so he doesnβt have to be rejected. does stratt want me to work on the project? do my friends want me at the party? does the scientific community want me at the conference? does rocky want to do surgery on me? mf do YOU want these things?? can you take ownership of your own desiresβ¦
guys my students would be so bummed if you sent me to die. have we thought about how they feel.
Oh, sure. You slither down ONE wall like a lizard, and suddenly your new friend (the same friend you JUST invited to stay in your house for a MONTH!) starts calling you "a creature in the semblance of a man." Smh.
I'm still thinking about the guy who saw me realize my wheelchair wouldn't fit in the elevator because he (also a wheelchair user) was already inside it and immediately quipped, "This elevator ain't accessible enough for the both of us."

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(asking my system friend who's fronting)hey so uhh.. what user is logged in right now
logging onto tumblr like heyyy i'm thinking about the same character i've spent the past few weeks thinking about. no change here. just wanted to let yall know
We report: as we were walking, the sky ahead of us was a milky white, certainly nothing like rain. We stopped for a sip of water, and finally noticed the clouds pooling behind us. We almost immediately felt a raindrop on our cheek, the wind pushing our hair into our face.
another teacher grace moment i love is when rocky gives him the oxygen model he goes 'i dont have one of these thank you!' like that is THE most teacher response ever when a child gives them something utterly incomprehensible but made with love
drives me nuts when ppl act like its somehow feminist to be a huge asshole to people because 'men are allowed to behave that way,' or whatever. ok. well i dont think men should be treating people like that either. and if they talk to me like you are talking to me, i will judge and avoid them as well.
"society gives men a pass for behaving in hurtful and selfish ways without consideration for the impact it has on the people around them, particularly those with less power" yeah
"so I'm going to deliberately emulate this behavior, and it will be feminist of me to do so" incorrect

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Positive thought this 4th: the 4th celebrates the very beginning of a fight for freedom with the statement in the Declaration of what is worth fighting for. It's not a celebration of a particular government or outcome necessarily. And in that sense, it's always hopeful because every year we can commit again to that beginning and those ideals. And those ideals were and remain truly radical, so of course they are contested, of course it's an ongoing fight. The evidence of how important it is to assert that everyone is equal and has inalienable rights--and the horror of allowing the alternate pov to rule-- is everywhere before our eyes.
*Of course* the fight continues. It's for something that can never fully be won--not as long as the human heart is imperfect, prone to error and cruelty--but it's also something that can never fully be lost as long as people want more than what Langston Hughes called "the same old stupid plan / Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak."
Every year, we can remember everyone who chose to believe that equality is possible, that the "same old stupid plan" must be fought with all we have, and dedicate ourselves to living that every day, to carrying our quiet part in the battle to create what Lincoln called a "new birth of freedom."
All the values worth fighting for can never truly and permanently be won. But any value worth fighting for can never truly be lost either. It is beyond the limits of power, it lives in the mystery of the human heart. Its power haunts and terrorizes tyrants because they know it is a spark that can never truly be quenched.
sometimes you just gotta fuck up your sleep schedule by reading all 100k words of a fic you're not even enjoying, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise
Several times on here I've seen the take "I know local theater is bad and cringey, but you have to support it anyway!" And while I understand what they're getting at, I'm always like, why do you assume it's going to be "bad" just because the artists are members of your own community? I just saw a local production of The Importance of Being Earnest and it was HILARIOUS. Everyone was DELIGHTFULLY funny and we thoroughly enjoyed it! There have been so many times I've been greatly moved by "amateur" or student art, and if you can't allow yourself to appreciate anything but "the Best" (and who decides what "the Best" is anyway? This production of "Earnest" was way funnier than the version that Judy Dench and Rupert Everett were in, as deservedly "famous" as they might be) then you are just being a joyless snob. There's beauty and talent all around you. And if that makes me "easy to please," then well... That means I'm pleased more often! And why should I want to apologize for that?
#seeβ it's not about eating your vegetables or pityfucking the local art scene #it's about making the grave mistake of believing yourself to be past surprise. #in my old age i have seen too many outstanding (or outstandingly ambitious) works by unknown artists #to presume which venue i will be seated at the next time i see a lifechangingly good performance #if you wanna be a prick and commodify it yeah sure i guess it IS gambling money and time you'd otherwise use on DoorDash and Phone in Bed #but i don't think that's any way to live life. incuriosity is weak as hell. neither you nor your art will survive the winter (tags via @deadpanwalking)
reminding everyone to wear sunscreen because the sun is a deadly laser: ππ
having to spend 10 minutes slathering yourself in grease just to safely be outside in the sun for 20 minutes. because the sun is a deadly laser: ππ
it's very frustrating seeing otherwise well-structured posts about media literacy and critical thinking bookended with statements about "nowadays", "nobody has literacy anymore", "this generation is so anti-intellectual", and the like, unquestioningly falling into better past fallacies.
Do we really think the 80s and its Satanic Panic were better at critical thinking? what about the 40s? the Victorian era? societies have always had problems with critical thinking and literacy, because most societies have dealt with propaganda, corrupt leadership, difficulty providing education (due to poverty or discrimination or other issues), and/or people who resist critical thinking (due to privilege or circumstance or what have you). we can criticize media trends without pulling a "well back in the GOOD OLD DAYS" about it.

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