8
2011
Reblogged from wordishness :
![wordishness:
“I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Christian. But you don’t have to be in the pew every Sunday to know that there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military, but our kids can’t openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school… I’ll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage… Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again.”
— Rick Perry
Today Christians … stand at the head of [this country]… I pledge that I never will tie myself to parties who want to destroy Christianity .. We want to fill our culture again with the Christian spirit … We want to burn out all the recent immoral developments in literature, in the theater, and in the press - in short, we want to burn out the poison of immorality which has entered into our whole life and culture as a result of liberal excess during the past … (few) years.
— Adolf Hitler](http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvvaqnInjI1qa42k5o1_500.jpg)
“I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Christian. But you don’t have to be in the pew every Sunday to know that there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military, but our kids can’t openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school… I’ll fight against liberal attacks on our religious heritage… Faith made America strong. It can make her strong again.”
— Rick Perry
Today Christians … stand at the head of [this country]… I pledge that I never will tie myself to parties who want to destroy Christianity .. We want to fill our culture again with the Christian spirit … We want to burn out all the recent immoral developments in literature, in the theater, and in the press - in short, we want to burn out the poison of immorality which has entered into our whole life and culture as a result of liberal excess during the past … (few) years.
— Adolf Hitler
19
2011
Spoof attack on American Apparel makes Upton the biggest name in fashion
“And that’s why Upton’s funny, confrontational response was so delicious. Using humor to frame dissent is not what society expects from women. Women are not supposed to be funny, particularly if it involves covering your face and breasts with cherry pie and starring catatonically into the middle distance.”
(Source: addtoany.com)
15
2011
27
2011
Reblogged from lefauxfrog-deactivated20110927 :
Going to sleep like a boss
This dog is my new role model.
I would have never thought of doing this. Now I want to watch this dog’s infomercial and buy his guide to more efficient living.
27
2011
Reblogged from inkdot :
"This weekend I was told a story which, although I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, because holy shit is it ever obvious, is kind of blowing my mind.
A friend of a friend won a free consultation with Clinton Kelly of What Not To Wear, and she was very excited, because she has a plus-size body, and wanted some tips on how to make the most of her wardrobe in a fashion culture which deliberately puts her body at a disadvantage.
Her first question for him was this: how do celebrities make a plain white t-shirt and a pair of weekend jeans look chic? She always assumed it was because so many celebrities have, by nature or by design, very slender frames, and because they can afford very expensive clothing. But when she watched What Not To Wear, she noticed that women of all sizes ended up in cute clothes that really fit their bodies and looked great. She had tried to apply some guidelines from the show into her own wardrobe, but with only mixed success. So - what gives?
His answer was that everything you will ever see on a celebrity’s body, including their outfits when they’re out and about and they just get caught by a paparazzo, has been tailored, and the same goes for everything on What Not To Wear. Jeans, blazers, dresses - everything right down to plain t-shirts and camisoles. He pointed out that historically, up until the last few generations, the vast majority of people either made their own clothing or had their clothing made by tailors and seamstresses. You had your clothing made to accommodate the measurements of your individual body, and then you moved the fuck on. Nothing on the show or in People magazine is off the rack and unaltered. He said that what they do is ignore the actual size numbers on the tags, find something that fits an individual’s widest place, and then have it completely altered to fit. That’s how celebrities have jeans that magically fit them all over, and the rest of us chumps can’t ever find a pair that doesn’t gape here or ride up or slouch down or have about four yards of extra fabric here and there.
I knew that having dresses and blazers altered was probably something they were doing, but to me, having alterations done generally means having my jeans hemmed and then simply living with the fact that I will always be adjusting my clothing while I’m wearing it because I have curves from here to ya-ya, some things don’t fit right, and the world is just unfair that way. I didn’t think that having everything tailored was something that people did. It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t know this. But no one ever told me. I was told about bikini season and dieting and targeting your “problem areas” and avoiding horizontal stripes. No one told me that Jennifer Aniston is out there wearing a bigger size of Ralph Lauren t-shirt and having it altered to fit her.
I sat there after I was told this story, and I really thought about how hard I have worked not to care about the number or the letter on the tag of my clothes, how hard I have tried to just love my body the way it is, and where I’ve succeeded and failed. I thought about all the times I’ve stood in a fitting room and stared up at the lights and bit my lip so hard it bled, just to keep myself from crying about how nothing fits the way it’s supposed to. No one told me that it wasn’t supposed to. I guess I just didn’t know. I was too busy thinking that I was the one that didn’t fit.
I thought about that, and about all the other girls and women out there whose proportions are “wrong,” who can’t find a good pair of work trousers, who can’t fill a sweater, who feel excluded and freakish and sad and frustrated because they have to go up a size, when really the size doesn’t mean anything and it never, ever did, and this is just another bullshit thing thrown in your path to make you feel shitty about yourself.
I thought about all of that, and then I thought that in elementary school, there should be a class for girls where they sit you down and tell you this stuff before you waste years of your life feeling like someone put you together wrong.
So, I have to take that and sit with it for a while. But in the meantime, I thought perhaps I should post this, because maybe my friend, her friend, and I are the only clueless people who did not realise this, but maybe we’re not. Maybe some of you have tried to embrace the arbitrary size you are, but still couldn’t find a cute pair of jeans, and didn’t know why."
16
2011
Reblogged from librariansoul :
The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Librarian's Soul: Food Privilege Deniers Challenge
Think that poor people are just lazy? That maybe if they would just get something other than fried chicken for dinner they wouldn’t be so fat? Then boy do I have a challenge for you!
For a week:
- You must walk or take public transportation for a week….
(Source: charlietangofoxtrot)
16
2011
Reblogged from therotund :
(Via Chicago Pit Stop Rescue)
You will pry my Rottweilers out of my cold dead arms.
Say “NO” to breed specific legislation.
A big part of the reason these breeds have been used by terrible people for terrible things is because they are all intelligent and easy to train. Which means they can also be easily trained for good things, too.
It’s people. We ruin everything. Some small-dicked asshole thinks having an unneutered pit bull that’s trained to fight makes him manly. Nope, dude, it just makes you a raging douchebag who gives the millions of wonderful, loving pitties a bad name and forces many of them to languish in shelters or be put down. Every pit I have known has been a sweet, loving, goofy and loyal family pet — this includes my cousin’s, who would lay next to his daughter when she was a baby and protect her. I wish I still had a picture of that. I used to but I don’t know where it went.
Some day when I have the money for a decent-sized apartment I intend to adopt at least one pit bull from a shelter. Probably two if I have room. And anyone who wants to tell me they are inherently evil can suck it.
And most GSDs and Dobies I’ve encountered are smarter than a lot of people I know.
I have lots of feelings about this.
No freaking animal is born with bad behaviors. It’s the people who own them that reinforce bad/destructive behaviors.
My grandparents had a Doberman when I was growing up, and she was the sweetest dog ever. That picture book series about the Rottweiler Carl and the baby girl was part of my childhood, my aunt has a sweet German Shepherd, and my ex-wife had/loved Pits. Whenever I see one around, which I do pretty often, I have this instinctive need to pet them and give them some love. The one above is especially sweet. I want a puppy.
16
2011
Reblogged from azspot :
My Summer at an Indian Call Center
Every month, thousands of Indians leave their Himalayan tribes and coastal fishing towns to seek work in business process outsourcing, which includes customer service, sales, and anything else foreign corporations hire Indians to do. The competition is fierce. No one keeps a reliable count, but each year there are possibly millions of applicants vying for BPO positions. A good many of them are bright recent college grads, but their knowledge of econometrics and Soviet history won’t help them in interviews. Instead, they pore over flashcards and accent tapes, intoning the shibboleths of English pronunciation—”wherever” and “pleasure” and “socialization”—that recruiters use to distinguish the employable candidates from those still suffering from MTI, or “mother tongue influence.”
In the end, most of the applicants will fail and return home deeper in debt. The lucky ones will secure Spartan lodgings and spend their nights (thanks to time differences) in air-conditioned white-collar sweatshops. They will earn as much as 20,000 rupees per month—around $2 per hour, or $5,000 per year if they last that long, which most will not. In a country where per-capita income is about $900 per year, a BPO salary qualifies as middle-class. Most call-center agents, however, will opt to sleep in threadbare hostels, eat like monks, and send their paychecks home. Taken together, the millions of calls they make and receive constitute one of the largest intercultural exchanges in history.
Indian BPOs work with firms from dozens of countries, but most call-center jobs involve talking to Americans. New hires must be fluent in English, but many have never spoken to a foreigner. So to earn their headsets, they must complete classroom training lasting from one week to three months. First comes voice training, an attempt to “neutralize” pronunciation and diction by eliminating the round vowels of Indian English. Speaking Hindi on company premises is often a fireable offense.
Next is “culture training,” in which trainees memorize colloquialisms and state capitals, study clips of Seinfeld and photos of Walmarts, and eat in cafeterias serving paneer burgers and pizza topped with lamb pepperoni. Trainers aim to impart something they call “international culture”—which is, of course, no culture at all, but a garbled hybrid of Indian and Western signifiers designed to be recognizable to everyone and familiar to no one. The result is a comically botched translation—a multibillion dollar game of telephone. “The most marketable skill in India today,” the Guardian wrote in 2003, “is the ability to abandon your identity and slip into someone else’s.”
(Source: azspot)
15
2011
15
2011
14
2011
Reblogged from stfuconservatives :
![stfuconservatives:
propaganda-for-life:
musicnurse:
[Image: a billboard sitting on some green grass with two text bubbles, which are the following text:]
“God, send us someone to cure AIDS, cancer, etc., etc.” “I did, but you aborted them”
It’s probably bad I find this funny
Funny how all of those have the potential to be cured by stem cell research.
Edit: Also funny how God gets this wrong 42,000,000 times a year.
They know some people have been cured of cancer, right? But a lot of people can’t afford the treatments, so they die anyways? God, send us some people who actually support humane health care reform.
Maybe God sent the person who will cure cancer and AIDs but they died of a treatable illness because their parents didn’t have health insurance. Maybe Miracle Baby would have cured AIDs and cancer, but they had underfunded and overcrowded public schools that served them garbage for lunch and taught Creationism alongside science, and now instead of curing diseases they’re making bitchy billboards.](http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_loam87kPvQ1qjgpzco1_500.png)
[Image: a billboard sitting on some green grass with two text bubbles, which are the following text:]
“God, send us someone to cure AIDS, cancer, etc., etc.”
“I did, but you aborted them”It’s probably bad I find this funny
Funny how all of those have the potential to be cured by stem cell research.
Edit: Also funny how God gets this wrong 42,000,000 times a year.
They know some people have been cured of cancer, right? But a lot of people can’t afford the treatments, so they die anyways? God, send us some people who actually support humane health care reform.
Maybe God sent the person who will cure cancer and AIDs but they died of a treatable illness because their parents didn’t have health insurance. Maybe Miracle Baby would have cured AIDs and cancer, but they had underfunded and overcrowded public schools that served them garbage for lunch and taught Creationism alongside science, and now instead of curing diseases they’re making bitchy billboards.
13
2011
13
2011
Reblogged from sleepydumpling :
this, my friends, is what i like to call a case of Jerry O’Connell. textbook example of fattie turned hottie.
I think you’ll find it’s a case of cutie turned hottie. I always wanted to snuggle him, in age appropriate ways.
Yep, I’ve always thought him adorable too. What a sweetie little Matthew was… and now he’s grown into a gorgeous man.
13
2011
Reblogged from sleepydumpling :
"
Yes, many people, probably most people, say that disliking your body is a normal part of being a woman. If by “normal” they mean that the majority of women, 80-90%, dislike their bodies, then yes, it is “normal.” The vast majority of women in this culture at this time do dislike their bodies.
But to think that this is normal as in natural, as in necessary, as in a normal function of being alive, is ridiculous. This belief is part of the problem. Since it is so ubiquitous, many women have come to accept that it is just part of being a woman. This is ludicrous! It is settling for what happens to be the situation for many, instead of envisioning the possibilities that are available for all. It is accepting mediocrity instead of creating grandeur. It is maintaining the status quo instead of envisioning the truth.
"
13
2011
Reblogged from therotund :
"Saying you’re “a writer” because you 1- enjoy writing and 2- think you’re pretty neat makes you no more a writer than going to a clurb and gyrating to Usher makes you a dancer or that having a small herb garden makes you a farmer.
A writer is someone is someone who gets paid or has gotten paid to write. Otherwise it’s a hobby."
these go to 11.: ugh thought catalog
Really though? I don’t think it’s that simple.
Voices that are marginalized and dismissed in other areas of public discourse are also often marginalized and dismissed by the publishing/media industry. “Writer” is not a professional designation wherein everyone who does the work has the opportunity to receive a paycheck for their skill, talent and professionalism.
Writers who get paid are writers who get paid. Writers who don’t get paid are writers who don’t get paid. The former doesn’t negate the existence of the latter.
(via federov)
I’m going to have to co-sign on this response.
(via meowsense)
Not to mention that, given exploitations in the industry, many excellent writers, including those published on international platforms, actually are not getting compensation for their work, so claiming that pay is the sole metric to use when determining whether someone is a writer has…problems.
(via meloukhia)
Yeah - that’s why we have the designation “professional” writer. We need that modifier to distinguish writers who do writing on a professional level (and even that varies hugely) from writers who simply write.
You don’t need to be commodified to be a writer. Or any other kind of artist, no matter how much the consumer-based economy tries to tell you so. Writing is what makes you a writer.
There is, I admit, a certain irony to me saying this because even though I have published a book and gotten paid and write for media outlets and promote other writers’ works like I’m an authority, I have a hard time considering myself A Writer.
And, frankly, people chalk it up to Imposter Syndrome but I chalk it up to shit like this where there’s a false and arbitrary standard that is dependent upon whatever the particular exclusionary writer wants to make their standard. The more people don’t take themselves seriously as writers or artists, the more elitist we can be. The more we condition people to believe they cannot possible BE writers or artists, the fewer writers and artists we will have in our society. And that’s a goddamn tragedy.
(via therotund)
What’s funny is that I don’t see nearly as much of this shit among other people in the arts. I have a slew of musician friends that either don’t make money from their music or make a pittance from a few gigs a year. But they don’t hesitate to call themselves musicians, and no one else seems to mind them doing so. Same thing with friends of mine who are visual artists. What is it about writing that makes people feel obliged to demand an income statement before claiming or using the moniker “writer”?
(Source: thoughtcatalog.com)
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The cast of the original Star Wars trilogy
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no shit.
This weekend I was told a story which, although I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, because holy shit
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