"But there was nothing about the little, low-rambling, more or less identical homes of Northumberland Estates to interest or to haunt, no chance of loot that would be any more than the ordinary, waking-world kind the cops hauled you in for taking; no small immunities, no possibilities for hidden life or otherworldly presence; no trees, secret routes, shortcuts, culverts, thickets that could be made hollow in the middle – everything in the place was right out in the open, everything could be seen at a glance; and behind it, under it, around the corners of its houses and down the safe, gentle curves of its streets, you came back, you kept coming back, to nothing; nothing but the cheerless earth."
Thomas Pynchon, "The Secret Integration"
This is Ian Mathers' Tumblr. I live in Canada. Hi.
ismathers @ twitter

 

kurganfilledwithbearbones:

image

Asked who the special Soren was in this college physics notebook from 1972 and my mother sighed deeply and said “Kierkegaard”

nostalgicfun:

nostalgicfun:

My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.

This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.

After a while my bf yelled from inside, “Okay, you ready for dinner?” and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.

My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we’ve been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.

He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What’s wrong, what happened? Are you okay?” he asked, frantic. “What is it?”

I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.

He was growing more panicked. “What is it? Why are you crying?”

I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out “Grimace”

Confused silence followed.

“….Grimace?”

I nodded.

“…The McDonalds guy…thing?”

I nodded.

“What…what did…Grimace…do to you?”

I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy–this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy–kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he’s a corporate mascot who isn’t real)

This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.

I didn’t even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, “Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!”

Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn’t still asleep, I opened the TikTok.

image

An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn’t real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.

also while we were in the car headed to dinner I remembered the little panel of Grimace crying and I got all teary eyed again, and my boyfriend looked over and, with all the genuine care, compassion, and sympathy this guy could muster, legitimately asked, “Are you having Grimace thoughts again?” which I don’t think I’ll ever let myself live down

antifaspiderman:

akajustmerry:

Ask a community organiser: can you organise with Fran Drescher as president of SAG-AFTRA even though she’s an antivaxxer? On broad based organising versus issue based organising.

Going to say the same thing here that I said on tiktok but you guys really need to listen to disabled and high risk people about disability issues. The kind of broad based organizing being described here has been made unsafe and in some cases actively hostile to disabled people who are still at risk from covid. disabled union organizers specifically have talked about being pushed out of organizing spaces because their abled coworkers dont care about covid and insisted on holding all meetings in person inside.

Not only that but Fran Drescher’s stance on vaccines is specifically a workplace health and safety issue not just a personal issue because she’s not actually antivax, she is vaccinated. what she opposes is vaccine mandates for sets and covid mitigation measures like continued masking and testing on sets.

She is actively pushing for policies that make the film industry hostile to disabled workers. My brother works in the film industry. He is a writer and set worker and might be eligible to join WGA someday. He also has long covid. Covid safety on set affects him directly, he feels unsafe joining the writers on the picket lines even though he obviously really supports their strike.

The continued dangers of the pandemic, long covid, and pandemic workplace safety are all things that disabled and especially high risk people have been talking about for ages but no one wants to listen and often we get harassed and called purity police for daring to point out that this is literally a life and death issue for us.

The fact that pandemic safety isnt being discussed in current union negotiations across different industries is not a sign that it’s not relevant its a sign that disabled people have been shut out of leadership positions in unions.

I reblogged this video yesterday but hadn’t seen this really good addition, which had a lot of stuff I didn’t know, and some I did and should have thought more about.

nerianasims:

“Think of the two major possibilities here: Either the studios owe untold millions to their talents and paying it out will decimate their stock prices, or they owe so little because there really is no money in streaming and the bubble of their entire 21st century business model will burst in spectacular fashion. And make no mistake: this is a bubble. This is the inevitable climax of a stockholder-driven hunger for infinite growth, despite the fact that, by design, such a thing cannot and should not exist. The infection of Wall Street has overwhelmed the entertainment industry beyond repair, leading to cultural vandals like David Zaslav to be appointed with the callous duty of strip-mining decades’ of artistic beauty for pennies of tax write-offs. The past and future are frivolous in comparison to the short-term demands that the line keep going up.”