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@wizardcowpoke
Iâm m!
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god I'm such a slut for Chinese eggplant in garlic sauce *decides itâs inaccurate to refer to myself as a slut in light of my minimal sexual activity* if The Enemy discovered my ardor for Chinese eggplant in garlic sauce, they would gain a significant strategic advantage
So a couple days ago, some folks braved my long-dormant social media accounts to make sure Iâd seen this tweet:
And after getting over my initial (rather emotional) response, I wanted to reply properly, and explain just why that hit me so hard.
So back around twenty years ago, the internet cosplay and costuming scene was very different from today. The older generation of sci-fi convention costumers was made up of experienced, dedicated individuals who had been honing their craft for years.  These were people who took masquerade competitions seriously, and earning your journeyman or master costuming badge was an important thing. They had a lot of knowledge, but â hereâs the important bit â a lot of them didnât share it.  Itâs not just that they werenât internet-savvy enough to share it, or didnât have the time to write up tutorials â no, literally if you asked how they did something or what material they used, they would refuse to tell you. Some of them came from professional backgrounds where this knowledge literally was a trade secret, others just wanted to decrease the chances of their rivals in competitions, but for whatever reason it was like getting a door slammed in your face.  Now, thatâs a generalization â there were definitely some lovely and kind and helpful old-school costumers â but they tended to advise more one-on-one, and the idea of just putting detailed knowledge out there for random strangers to use wasnât much of a thing.  And then what information did get out there was coming from people with the freedom and budget to do things like invest in all the tools and materials to create authentic leather hauberks, or build a vac-form setup to make stormtrooper armor, etc.  NOT beginner friendly, is what Iâm saying.
Then, around 2000 or so, two particular things happened: anime and manga began to be widely accessible in resulting in a boom in anime conventions and cosplay culture, and a new wave of costume-filled franchises (notably the Star Wars prequels and the Lord of the Rings movies) hit the theatres.  What those brought into the convention and costuming arena was a new wave of enthusiastic fans who wanted to make costumes, and though a lot of the anime fans were much younger, some of them, and a lot of the movie franchise fans, were in their 20s and 30s, young enough to use the internet to its (then) full potential, old enough to have autonomy and a little money, and above all, overwhelmingly female.  I think that latter is particularly important because that meant they had a lifetime of dealing with gatekeepers under our belts, and we werenât inclined to deal with yet another one. They looked at the old dragons carefully hoarding their knowledge, keeping out anyone who might be unworthy, or (even worse) competition, and they said NO.  If secrets were going to be kept, they were going to figure things out for ourselves, and then they were going to share it with everyone.  Those old-school costumers may have done us a favor in the long run, because not knowing those old secrets meant that we had to find new methods, and we were trying â and succeeding with â materials that âseriousâ costumers would never have considered.  I was one of those costumers, but there were many more â I was more on the movie side of things, so JediElfQueen and PadawansGuide immediately spring to mind, but there were so many others, on YahooGroups and Livejournal and our own hand-coded webpages, analyzing and testing and experimenting and swapping ideas and sharing, sharing, sharing. Â
Iâm not saying that to make it sound like we were the noble knights of cosplay, riding in heroically with tutorials for all. Â Iâm saying that a group of people, individually and as a collective, made the conscious decision that sharing was a Good Things that would improve the community as a whole. Â That wasnât necessarily an easy decision to make, either. I know I thought long and hard before I posted that tutorial; the reaction I had gotten when I wore that armor to a con told me that I had hit on something new, something that gave me an edge, and if I didnât share that info I could probably hang on to that edge for a year, or two, or three. Â And I thought about it, and I was briefly tempted, but again, there were all of these others around me sharing what they knew, and I had seen for myself what I could do when I borrowed and adapted some of their ideas, and I felt the power of what could happen when a group of people came together and gave their creativity to the world.
And it changed the face of costuming. Â People who had been intimidated by the sci-fi competition circuit suddenly found the confidence to try it themselves, and brought in their own ideas and discoveries. Â And then the next wave of younger costumers took those ideas and ran, and built on them, and branched out off of them, and the wave after that had their own innovations, and suddenly here we are, with Youtube videos and Tumblr tutorials and Etsy patterns and step-by-step how-to books, and I am just so, so proud. Â
So yeah, seeing appreciation for a 17-year-old technique I figured out on my dining-room table (and bless it, doesnât that page just scream âI learned how to code on Geocities!â), and having it embraced as a springboard for newer and better things warms this fandom-oldâs heart. Â This is our legacy, and a legacy the current group of cosplayers is still creating, and itâs a good one. Â
(Oh, and for anyone wondering: yes, Iâm over 40 now, and yes, Iâm still making costumes. And that armor is still in great shape after 17 years in a hot attic!) Â
Hang on a minute. I recognize the name âpenwiperâ. Let me checkâ Ok, yeah, Iâve heard of this person.
OP also invented armsocks.
Y'all might have noticed that your friendly community moderator has been slacking a bit lately. No updates. No organizing. What the heck was
OP I have been thinking about YOUR IMPACT since 2011. Do you know what you did for Homestuck lmao
Another example of a foundational internet text that millions of people donât know was so influential.
every movie poster just looks like this to me now
imperialist sports and their impact
football: reappropriated globally, provides the world a reasonable way to repeatedly humiliate britain publically
cricket: not a reliable way to humiliate britain so you only play this one if you actually like it, pervert
baseball: japan and cuba have, together, managed to derive some pleasure from the horrific tormentor that is the united states. can we blame them for that? can we blame them for romance and love in this world

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And the universe said I love you
And the universe said you are not alone
And the universe said I love you because you are love.
hail mary doodles
grace goes to therapy- part 1
Sometimes ur fat bc u were born that way. Ur parents are fat, ur cousins are fat, u always have been fat.
And sometimes, you become fat. Something happened (puberty, change in diet, change in ability, anything) and someone who was once skinny is now fat. This doesnt make you a failure. It just means ur fat now. Its okay. You didnt do something wrong.
No matter how you are fat, its okay to be fat
rarely do i repost things and especially from shittr but this video is shutting down core partsof my mental processing i think

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I'm in a little local cafe and the women behind the counter started griping to each other, "Oh Christ, Stephen's back again," "It's him, is it? I thought he'd stopped coming," "It's definitely him, look, it's bloody Stephen on a Thursday morning," "Do you want me to get rid of him or are you going to do it?" and so I was peering outside, trying to spot this nightmare customer, this pestilence of a person, this pox upon the cafe trade, and then one of the women from behind the counter ran outside, clapping two trays together loudly and yelling "GET OUT OF IT, STEPHEN!" and it turns out that Stephen is an absolutely gigantic fuck-off seagull who hangs around outside, menacing people for crumbs
oh fuck... the adderall has hit my system... the change, it's happening... grRRRGH...!! get away from me, before it's too late...!!
(flails on the ground, then stands up and does the dishes)
âwhy do trans men get surprised when they transition and their friends start treating them like a gross manâ its bc our transition shouldnât make our friends lose trust in us just because of how we look and identify. its not about the man part its about the gross part. if u treat ur transmasc friends as inherently gross or dangerous the second they start transitioning, it makes it seem like u werenât really even our friends to begin with if u donât know us well enough that u equate us as individuals to the stereotypical man youve built in ur head.
how it feels to message a friend who's having Problems that you can't do anything to help with.

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material circumstances guide my blade
LOL so the other day I was scampering about squeaking and looking for cheese and such when I saw the farmer out in the field and, get this, he was trying to pull a turnip out of the ground, but the turnip was like really big, right, so he couldnât do it đ like he was really struggling. Weak fuckinh farmer. So he calls over his wife and she holds onto his waist and starts pulling too but the turnip is still stuck. So she calls over their kid and she grabs onto her grandma and now all three of them are huffing and puffing but the damn turnip wonât budge. This is one crazy ass root vegetable. So they call over the dog and Iâm thinking, girl, this is not going to work. but the dog bites down on the kids pants and starts pulling. Itâs like a damn conga line. No dice. The dog starts whimpering and next thing you know the cat wanders over and bites the mutt right on her tail and starts pulling. So Iâm laughing my ass off at this point but the cat starts looking at me. And normally we donât really get on, the cat and me. But thereâs this desperation in her eyes. In all of their eyes, really. Like, if I canât dig up a damn tuber then who am I. Whatâs the point of it all, if thereâs an enormous turnip thatâs stronger than me. And I can see the future unfolding in my mind. The cat will never respect the dog again, and dog will never obey the kid, who will probably run away from home to find a new jacked grandma. And the farmers wife will leave him, and the whole damn charade of masculinity will crumble and fall. And I shouldnât care right. I have no stake in this. This is some funny shit. But how funny would it be if little old me pitched in and the turnip actually came uprooted. Iâve got no ego. nobody respects a gay little mouse in this city. If I donât make a difference here, no loss. But if I save the day? Can you imagine? Outdid by a mouse? The farmer would be delivering me fresh brie on the daily and the cat would probably have to move to a different area code to escape the mockery. So, in the spirit of cooperation, I grab the catâs tail, and I give a little tug. Just the one. And I swear to god, it feels like an earthquake. Up comes the turnip, big as a house, and the farmer falls on his ass, and so does his wife, and all down the line. And I hop up on the cats head and scamper up the backs of the team as they catch their breath, and I leap up onto the turnip itself and I take a big bite out of it. And let me tell you: that shit? Tasted like a turnip