political comics that are just kids holding books and going “what’s this?????? not a electronic? no computer???not phone?? how can be??” will always crack me up
I think old people do this just to feel better about themselves because they don’t know how to use a computer and think that it works the other way around for some reason.
All of the pictures of myself I really love obscure my body. Or I crop my body out. Because, see, there are times when I don’t hate my face. When I’m wearing makeup and the lighting is good and I’m impeccably Instagram-filtered, I can feel like 65% of the way to pretty. I’m even willing to go down as far as mid-torso if I’m wearing a particularly flattering top. But full-body, no makeup, messy hair? No. No. Nope.
I almost picked a girled-up pretty photo for this Tumblr, so I could say “This is how fat I am” and know that everyone would look at it and say, “Oh, that’s not so bad, look how cute her hair looks! That’s a great dress!” I’m telling you this so you know just how hard it was to send this one.
This is me. With my skinny friend. In Iceland. We hiked a glacier. I am exactly this fat - this is how fat I am - and yet an apple-cheeked young Norse god put an ice axe in my hand and strapped crampons to my feet and I climbed a motherfucking glacier. I slipped a lot and I fell twice and it was so hard on my body that I cried and I cried, I felt humiliated by how far behind the rest of the group (including my skinny friend and my fit brother who are both hiking outdoorsy people) I fell. I had my own tour guide. I had like a pity tour guide who stuck back with me as I fell further and further and further behind and only caught up to them when they would stop and take breaks. I have never pushed my body so hard in my life, and I hated every single second of it except for one moment where I got to stop, with my pity tour guide, at the top of that glacier and look down on this blue glassy mountain of ice wayyyyy down to the tour bus where we’d started and I said to myself, “Holy fuck, I fucking did that.”
Here’s the problem when you go glacier hiking with skinny fit hiker people. You have to pretend like it’s hilarious when you fall down or straggle behind or your pants fall down around your ankles (this happened) (don’t worry, I was wearing leggings underneath them) (BUT STILL). You have to play the scene like it’s Lucille Ball. Because if you show the vulnerability - if every time you’re at a cocktail party and your friend says, “OMG, tell everyone the hilarious glacier story!” you have to play along. Or rather, you don’t HAVE to do all of these things. But I couldn’t not. I couldn’t say, “Fuck all of you for laughing at a fat person daring to do a physical activity just because when my friend roped me into this trip I had a completely mistaken understanding of what a glacier was and I think I thought she was talking about the tundra, which is flat as fuck and well within my capabilities.”
I don’t want to be a person who looks at this photo and thinks, “Ugh, what a fat frump.” I want to look at this picture and say to myself, “You’re awesome. Look at you. You’re about to go hike a goddamn glacier. You are a fucking conqueror and none of the skinny fit hiker people on this tour with you have any idea how much harder it is to do this in your body than theirs, you deserve a hot whiskey and a full-body massage administered by Lucy Lawless and Lena Headey in their Xena and Cersei costumes, respectively,”
I am not there yet. But just being able to say that helps.
can we start a club for teenagers who were constantly complimented on their intelligence when they were younger and are now having trouble coping with the realization that they’re actually of average intellect at best
can this club have a support person that helps us to study because we didn’t need to before so we don’t know how to now
Even though you can’t tell by my expression, I’m so excited that my hoodie came in. I would sleep with it on, only I’d wake up dying of heat exhaustion. 10/10, would order again
I like how Moffat would say that Reinette - a female character that he wrote into the show - is obviously a perfect match for the Doctor based on her level of ‘civilization’ and education.
As opposed to oh say…Rose Tyler - a lower-class girl who never went to university - whom the Doctor actually fell in love with and did settle down with in another universe.
This quote just has it all, doesn’t it?
- The elitism
- The dig at Rose Tyler and RTD, by extension
- The elevation of ‘his’ character at the expense of existing ones.
- The implication that Madame de Pompadour - one of the most powerful women in the country - would of course drop everything she had worked for to go and ‘settle down’ with a man who is basically a homeless spacehobo.
People who call Moffat a talentless hack are mistaken. It takes some skill to cram that much fail into just three sentences.
Hah, excellent Moffat-criticism here. He is so petty, and so unequipped to write insightful sci-fi.
Like, okay, let’s pretend for a second that by “educated and civilised” he means “has a lot of knowledge and social insight” (which is a valid thing to look for in a romantic partner) rather than, you know, “rich, fancy and subservient” (which is what Moffat expects people to look for in a romantic partner).
… I really don’t think that an 18th century aristocrat has more understanding of science and society than a 21st person without A levels but with a working television. And in any case, if the Doctor was really looking for people who are Intellectual Equals, he’d surely look in the future, when people understand time travel, and have wikipedia installed in their brains, or whatever. Or AIs! I can’t imagine anyone more educated and ‘civilised’ than AI people!
Just, one thing I really loved about RTD’s Who arcs - which Moffat clearly didn’t understand at all - was that EVERYTHING the companions knew was useful - Harry Potter trivia! Game-show quickness! Fast typing! - and that the, like, real-world hierarchy of skills and marketability was always shown as less important than courage and compassion.
WITHOUT A LEVELS BUT WITH A WORKING TELEVISION
YES THIS.
I’m imagining the real Madame de Pompadour and how very unimpressed she would be by Steven Moffat declaring his ~admiration for her, but
wow
did this man just admit that he think the position of Companion is actually the Doctor’s maîtresse-en-titre? Jesus wept.
That is exactly what this man thinks, and what he writes also. He thinks women are wired to ‘cling’ and men are wired to want to escape them, and the only way a relationship can be agreeable to both parties is if the woman accepts that they can only spend time together when the dude initiates it.
… Suddenly I am kinda surprised that Sherlock and Irene didn’t set up a long-distance relationship where she spends her days in an orientalist parody of a villa, waiting for Sherlock and passing the time taking luxurious bubble-baths and emotionlessly spanking female nobility.
Oh my god this is some sick shit— and really, really, really highlights how much Moffat doesn’t understand the fundamental heart of the show he’s fucking running. If the Doctor was so hot for intelligent, well educated, civilized women why the fuck did he ever leave his home planet? Why has he only ever had one Gallifreyan companion after he left his granddaughter to go her own way? Romana was foisted on him by the time lord ellimist, he didn’t go picking her out of a catalogue.
The Doctor runs around with soldiers and schoolkids and teachers and sailors and students and journalists and shop girls and alien refugees and orphans and robot dogs and barbarians and private detective penguins and renegade archaeologists. If he wanted a slice of properly civilized girlfriend he had the whole universe to go pick one out from, and he never did till Moffat wrote him launching himself smooch-first at the lady in the fancy dress and historically inaccurate boobies.
Sometimes you need to remind yourself that you were the one who carried you through the heartache. You are the one who sits with the cold body on the shower floor, and picks it up. You are the one who feeds it, who clothes it, who tucks it into bed, and you should be proud of that. Having the strength to take care of yourself when everyone around you is trying to bleed you dry, that is the strongest thing in the universe.
