It’s Jesus’ bday soon, and so I’d like it if someone bought me a white genuine leather and gold studded collar, a gold and diamond encrusted septum ring, one of those butt plugs with a big crystal end, 30” weave, taxidermy goodies, lingerie, a bong and weed.
Or y’know what, maybe all I want is weed. Lots and lots of weed.
This little scene broke my heart. The girl who believed in nargles, in wrackspurts and blibbering humdingers, has become the girl who believed no more.
i tHINK IM GOING TO START CRYING NW
See, the thing that nobody understands, is that Luna believed in things that had proof. She’s a Ravenclaw, a genius, an expert in the unseen but proven. I mean, if she’d started talking about Thestrals before Harry had been able to see them, saying that there was an invisible winged horse pulling the carriages that only people that had witnessed death could see? You’d have thought THAT was crazy, too.
Luna knows Nargles and Wrackspurts are out there. As far as she knows, there’s proof of it.
But seashells hanging in a door? Those don’t do anything, nothing but give you a false sense of security.
It’s not that Luna doesn’t believe. It’s that now, as always, she’s frank and straightforward. Seashells can’t keep the evil at bay. Nothing can.
Thank you. She is not a naive little kid who believes everything you tell her. She just knows some things we don’t. Because she looks harder.
The French market views Native art in a different way than the American. The French consider anthropological issues as secondary. The most important is the visual, aesthetic shock. In Paris, any collector experiencing an aesthetic emotion, and a direct contact with an item, will buy it. It doesn’t matter whether it’s Maori or Hopi. When you have the chance, you have to pick it up.
Alain Leroy, owner of EVE auction house in Paris, which recently sold 25 Hopi and Apache sacred objects against the objections of the Hopi and Apache Nations to which they rightfully belong, as well as petitions by Indigenous rights organizations and last-ditch efforts by the US embassy to halt the auction. The sales ended up fetching $1.3 million.
Take a moment to digest this incredibly aggressive statement of European and French colonialism by this racist prick. He explicitly believes that literally nothing is sacred and everything originating in the non-white world can simply be snatched up through force by white people if they feel like it. Sacred objects are reduced to “aesthetic shock” value for white enjoyment, while “anthropological issues”, i.e. non-white peoples and cultures, are “secondary”. They don’t even give a fuck if it’s Maori or Hopi or whatever colonized people, who cares, if they like it, they can take it.
There is much to be said for a worldview that demands the ownership of absolutely anything and everything the world offers, from its natural bounty to the people and cultures within it.
Casual justifications of cultural theft like this are evidence that these rational, enlightened “post colonial” white people still view indigenous cultures the same way they’ve always viewed everything under the imperialist gaze; as objects to be owned, dominated, and exploited.
It’s been over 20 years since I’ve had to sit an exam, so it’s almost long enough for me to forget the hysterical run up to Christmas: Cramming, caffeine, not sleeping - and not eating anything because I didn’t want to have a spastic bowel going in to a three hour hostage taking. Oh, and thinking the world was going to end if I didn’t keep my average over a 3.8.
I am 43 years old. I’ve got a wonderful life, I’ve got a great career. And I’ve flunked out, I’ve withdrawn, I’ve run out of an exam and ruined my grade because I didn’t want to barf on my paper or shit my knickers.
I’ve had narcissistic profs make me think that their class Is The Be All And End All, that if I fail at college that I’ll fail at life and have no future.
And it’s total and complete bullshit. Yeah, an education is important, but no one cares how you got there. Exams are re-takeable, courses are re-doable, profs can be replaced.
YOU, HOWEVER, CANNOT BE REPLACED. All caps, because I cannot emphasize it enough. There are a zillion interchangeable classes and universities and exams and professors… but there is only one you.
I know a lot of you following me are both young and have a tendency towards depression and anxiety. And I want you to know that I, too, have flamed out, flunked something, even gotten booted out of a class. Or three.
I’ve never - not even once - been asked in a job interview why I failed anthropology so spectacularly… Or why the pathetic asshole of a “professor” teaching “Visual Design and Layout” or whatever the fuck that journalism course was called flipped his shit on me and kicked me out.
Not once, not ever. Out here in The World? No one will ask. No one cares about those details or what you took to get your mandatory Science credit.
What did impact me was the kindness shown to me, the strangers who helped me out, who let me melt down and helped me find my feet after. How to recover.
I learned to get broadsided, I learned to manage, I learned to keep down my lunch, and I learned that it will all be okay. And THAT is the shit you need out here in the world.
If you’re on the verge of shattering, call for help. Call your student centre, your doctor, go to the hospital if you feel in any way suicidal.
Blowing an academic gasket happens. It is not the end of the world, despite what it feels like. I promise you, this is not the end. This is the beginning.
Take a deep breath and do what you need to do - even if it is a do-over. It can all be fixed, one way or another.
Advertising is based on one thing: happiness. And do you know what happiness is? Happiness is the smell of a new car. It’s freedom from fear. It’s the billboard on the side of a road that screams with reassurance that whatever you’re doing is okay. You are okay. -- Donald Draper, Mad Men
I’ve put together this collection of recent sexist advertisements from different companies. To be honest, it was difficult to pick the ones I wanted because there were so many of them. It was truly abhorrent.
Donald Draper explains to us what advertising is. Its a stroking of the ego. Sexism and patriarchy are rampant within society (advertising also touches on things like race, body size, and social class but for the purposes of this post I am focusing on those two), and thus advertising capitalizes on that, makes money on it, and perpetuates it. We’re surrounded by this kind of advertising. We can’t escape it, we’re trapped.
So when shopping or flipping through a magazine, or even driving down the high way and reading billboards, let’s all remember to put our critical thinking hats on and to identify and call out the sexism. Advertising is a significant contributor to the continued social injustices. But remember: those problems come to an end with us. If we stop responding to these advertisements the way the companies want us to, then some real reform can begin.