#not just dusty history book pages you can forget out of convenience ))

[omniuniversal]

Oh my God I was joking about the blood the thing! I was trying to do a Benwolf-vampire joke. I was not expecting a damn lecture. You remember what a joke is right? And before you pull the whole race and culture isn't funny card I'd like to remind you that some ethnic comedians tend to sometimes poke fun at their own ethnicity. I get it. The world is screwed up and there are some things you should take seriously. But that shouldn't apply for everything! That's all I have to say for now.

“It’s good that ‘that’s all you have to say for now,’ because now might be a really good time for you to sit down and listen.”

“Some ‘ethnic’ comedians do like to crack wise about their traditions and history and mock stereotypes and go ‘brown people be like,’ yeah. And that’s their right, and that’s their choice, and very often they’ll use it to call attention to the issues, like black lives mattering, that sort of thing. Good for them.”

“I have no idea what color you are, you’ve just got kind of this grey thing going on, and if you’re actually of indigenous descent and indigenous culture then more power to you, but if you’re a white person or from a non-native background you legit do not get to initiate those jokes and get mad when they don’t land. Because that’s not your right, it’s not your choice, you don’t have the context or the understanding or the authenticity on a legacy level. I didn’t make the joke, you did, and that was just. Not. Cool.”

“On a personal level: in my own life, with the people I choose to have close to me, sometimes I will make those sorts of jokes. Ben says some unintentionally ignorant small-town white-boy thing about my fighting style, I’ll set him straight with sarcasm and a knowing smirk. But I know Ben, I care about Ben, and Ben, dumbass that he can be half the time, actually learns from his screw-ups and changes his prejudices, like how he never calls Lenopans ‘Sludge Puppies’ anymore. Meanwhile, I don’t know you. I absolutely have no idea who you are because the whole function of the anonymous motif intentionally eschews my knowing who you are. So you don’t have the luxury of that personal history with me and knowing my boundaries or my consent or responding to teachable moments.”

“And– as you grow up, if you grow up, in this world and on The Internet, you’re going to have to learn to understand one thing. What’s said is said, like a certain Goblin King once quipped. You say something, you post something, you put it out into the universe, you relinquish control of it. You don’t get to dictate other people’s responses to what you’ve done or said, because if you get them where it hurts, they are going to be hurt, and they are going to lash back. Sometimes your ‘jokes’ aren’t gonna be funny, and the consequences of that are going to be up close and personal. Right now, this is one of those times.”

“As for those things that I should take seriously? I take very seriously a history of prejudice, oppression, systematic murder and displacement, marginalization, and mistreatment that has lasted five hundred years and is still happening now. You may be able to say it’s just a joke because it doesn’t affect you. But every day I feel the effects of what colonizers have done to my people and the other tribes and Nations of The ‘Americas.’ My people are impoverished. My people get to be themselves only if we stay in our corner of your map. My people are caricatured and pigeonholed by your sports team mascots and logos, we’re mocked in your movies as dumb hicks that just smoke and drink all the time. My people are abused and beaten up and hosed down on the very same land you forced us onto so we would be out of your way because some money-hungry corporate/government hybrid wants to pipe oil where we keep our drinking water.” 

“So excuse me if I’m a little more serious about this than you expected.”

“Excuse me if you asked a question and couldn’t handle the answer.”

“Excuse me if you had the opportunity to learn something and instead doubled-down on ignorance, dug in your heels and got defensive.”

“You’ve got a second chance now. Learn from this encounter or just… just stay out of this inbox, okay?”

#(( full disclosure: I am a white person )) #(( I am *not* going to make those kind of jokes in character because #I don't have that cultural perspective #but these are things you should be mad about #that are happening to living people right now #not just dusty history book pages you can forget out of convenience )) #anon #anonymous #asked and answered #stand back and let the kai go through

[noitomwols]

how to survive as a depressed person during quarantine (me edition)

-Take those weeks to take of yourself, both physically and mentally. Shower every morning/evening if you are able to. If not, try at least twice a week. It’s a good time to give your body a well-deserved treatment. Use masks, patches, body cream, oils. You may even try the sebum cure everyone is talking about non-stop! 

-Hydration is key. Please, just because you’re staying inside doesn’t mean your body is not lacking water. Drink as much water as you can. It will clear your skin, and help you deal with the shit happening worldwide.

-Respect the deadlines for your work and college inscription. 🌱

-It’s time to catch up with your favorite series, including Supernatural, Big Little Lies 🌱, Free!

-You may even start new ones, no one can blame you (Sharp Objects)

-Finish the current book you are reading (His Dark Materials) 🌱 and start all those dusty forgotten works that lie in the cupboards. Give it a shot of fifty pages, you surprise yourself!

-It is important not to forget to move your body in any way you can. Rollerskate in the parking lot as it isn’t outside and actually convenient enough to slide. Work out at least three times a week to release some serotonin in yourself. Sweat it all out: the frustration of being on lockdown, the anger of cancelled holidays, the sadness of being away from your lover.

-Those weeks may as well embody a perfect time for the spring clean of the year! Cleaning the windows inside and out 🌱, throwing away useless old objects (or selling them, or giving them to charities), cleaning the all closet from the clothes you don’t wear anymore (so when everything’s over, you may shop for new ones!) or gardening if you have the chance to do so. 

-Teach your younger siblings if their schools are closed. As for me, I will teach my little sister French, history and English in order for her not to get behind her classmates or fail her exams.

-For editors: now is the time to finally finish all those leftovers projects you swore to once post. Me included. 

-Learn a new language with the help of Duolingo or Internet (Dutch for myself). Write all the new words you’ve learnt in a notebook, make it pretty with stickers and colors. The more you put your brain at work, the more you will likely to stress less. (Although I suffer from bad anxiety and depression, I know deep down inside me that this is truth. Not always easy to do tho.)

-Write. For yourself, for others. Keep a diary to keep sane. Write for contests, or start that project that’s been luring inside your thoughts for too long. 

-Look for a place to live in The Netherlands. Make sure to check every day.

-Now might be a perfect time to learn how to cook. Once everything calms down, we may go back again to the supermarkets and start perhaps baking new delicious recipes. 

-Napping. No need to feel guilty. It is genuinely the only thing you can do during those times. 

-Redecorating your room. Changing furnitures from their original place.

-Buy Animal Crossing New Horizons. 🌱

-Do your nails/toenails 🦋

-Watch Prison Break again. 🌱

-Reorganize your music playlists!

-Order Bubbles At Home. 🧼

-Order make up palette. 🌱

-Clean the kitchen, organize cupboards, clean the fridge out.

-Watch new movies/documentaries on Netflix with people you’re quarantined with/or by yourself.

-Create mapart on Minecraft!

-Do boardgames. 🧸

-Clean the shoes. 🌱

-Go to the basement to put the suitcase, the clothes and fetch roller protections. 🌱

-Write the authorization for Phil.

-Clean the sheets 🌱

-Put the pillows in the vacuum bag. 🌱

-Drink tea 🍵

-Vaccum your room! 🌱

-Try yoga and kung-fu. 🌱

(I’ll add more if you guys have any ideas!)

#survive #quarantine #coronavirus #lockdown

[mobius-prime]

109. Knuckles the Echidna #18

Deep Cover (Part Two of Two): Debt of Honor

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Barry Grossman

Whilst the false Tobor we've seen in Haven so far has mostly seemed quiet and serious, the real Tobor, now being looked after by Lara-Le and Julie-Su, is actually quite an amiable and emotional soul, enjoying thoroughly the hospitality he's being shown. Lara-Le, seeing an opportunity, asks him some questions about his former station.

I think that really does sum it up, honestly - that Guardians are raised to be so indoctrinated that they see certain things as just natural inevitabilities of life. Thus far, as we know, only Tobor and Athair have ever ended up on a different path - and in Tobor's case, not even by choice. But for now, we leave Tobor to enjoy his newfound family, and head back to Knuckles stepping into Kragok's cell in the prison. Remington wants to supervise to ensure Knuckles' safety, but Knuckles vehemently refuses, insisting he be locked in with their prisoner. Remington isn't happy about it, but he eventually agrees.

How kind of Remington and his crew to let Kragok lounge in here unrestrained with his tattered edgelord robes and claw hand! I'm sure with Remington gone, he won't try anything at all! Knuckles is pretty pissed off, now determined to get some answers after hearing Tobor's story, and while he prepares to begin his interrogation, we hop back to Haven, and to Locke and Sabre's attempts to restore full power to the facility.

Gee, I can think of three guesses as to who might have sabotaged this place, and the first two don't count. It conveniently happened right before Tobor got a chance to tell his story, too. I guess Moritori Rex realized pretty quick once Julie-Su found Tobor that his time was beginning to run out and did what he had to to protect his secret, but of course, the other Brotherhood members don't know that - yet. As they continue working, back in the prison cell Knuckles demands that Kragok tell him everything he knows about Tobor, and when Kragok plays dumb he decides to get rough, which as we all know is the number one, scientifically proven best way to get information out of an uncooperative prisoner!

Man, Remington didn't even think to hook Kragok up with a limiter or something so that he couldn't go around zapping anyone who came into his cell? Remington, you're dropping the ball, man. Knuckles and Kragok start to brawl, but the expending of energy from both parties creates some kind of… I dunno, dimensional wormhole? It dumps them into a strange weightless void filled with stars and what look like squiggly stereotypical Halloween ghosts. Knuckles is surprised and fascinated as he examines his new surroundings, but Kragok starts freaking the hell out, screaming and shrieking that he swore to never come back here. While he has his little mental breakdown, we jump back to Tobor for a second. Lara-Le is still baffled by the idea that Tobor's own father somehow didn't realize that he was taking someone who was definitely not his son back to his home, but Tobor has an idea of what may have happened.

It seems that in becoming so badly injured from the fight, Moritori Rex ended up stumbling upon a delightfully serendipitous opportunity to infiltrate the Brotherhood and gain inside information by impersonating the very person he'd been trying to kill a moment ago. I mean, with their eyes covered up there, next to each other, can you tell which one is supposed to be Tobor? Yeah, me neither. Lara-Le is still unconvinced, however, saying that she can't believe that his own wife, at the very least, would be fooled by an imposter - and though Tobor has agonized over this as well, he doesn't have an answer for her.

Back in the void, Knuckles grabs Kragok and forces him to stop having a meltdown, still determined to get answers. Kragok still acts defiant, but Knuckles, thoroughly fed up by now, beats him up a bit and continues yelling at him to talk. Come on, man, if you want him to confess information you gotta butter him up! Become his friend, take him out to tea or something! This isn't how to conduct a professional interrogation! Back in Haven, Sojourner, Spectre and Sabre are discussing how convenient it is that one component could take down power to their entire facility, while Moritori Rex sits nearby silently listening. The three share relief that at the very least, the sanctity of Haven has never before been violated, and no uninvited guests have ever been allowed to gain entry ever. Boy, it sure is nice that the Dark Legion are mostly weakened right now, and can't infiltrate this place, right? Right, Grandfather Tobor?

Meanwhile, in the void, Kragok's finally had enough of being knocked around, and concedes to talk. He first gets Knuckles to recap everything he knows about the story of Edmund and Dimitri, mocking him when he only gives the story in brief, as apparently the Legion puts strong emphasis on knowing their history. He then adds onto the tale, with the events that took place immediately afterwards.

Oho! So it wasn't serendipity after all, but in fact a coordinated plan to take over Tobor's role from the start! There is, of course, the question of why the Dark Legion has struggled so much with losing all the time considering they have a very powerful man on the inside, but eh, maybe Moritori Rex is just a terrible planner for anything that doesn't involve intentionally letting your eyes be gouged out to take over your enemy's identity. After he finishes his quick tale, he then distracts Knuckles using the tried and true "look over there!" strategy, and kicks off through space towards another dimensional portal opening up at that moment. Knuckles races… or, uh, glides… through the void after him, hoping to pop back out in the real world alongside him to continue their little chat.

While this is going on, Lara-Le has taken to looking through family photo albums, something which I find kind of hilarious - I mean, are you really telling me this super-secretive group just keeps like, ordinary baby photos and wedding pictures in a dusty old book that they hand down through the ages or something? - but she can't find any trace of Tobor or his wife anywhere. Tobor is about to reply when he suddenly gets an incredibly strong feeling that Knuckles is in danger, and immediately leaps out the window, to Lara-Le's shock and Julie-Su's vague disapproval at this abrupt departure. Tobor glides through the streets randomly, thinking to himself that the power he's sensing from Knuckles is so strong as to make it seem like Knuckles is a living Chaos Emerald, a level of power which he says that "no Guardian" has ever achieved before. I mean, sure, no Guardian, but are you forgetting about one Mr. Dimitri "the power of eleven Chaos Emeralds howls within me" the Echidna? Knuckles is distantly related, after all. As he glides, he sees the other end of the dimensional portal open up in front of him, with Kragok popping out followed closely by Knuckles.

As Knuckles so aptly says on the next page: "Go git'im, Grandfather Tobor!" Really, after all he's been through, Tobor deserves the chance to wail on Kragok a little within Kragok's hated pocket zone. In the apartment, Lara-Le is in the middle of giving Julie-Su a modified version of The Talk that can basically be summed up as "Don't get a crush on my son, seriously, it will be bad for your mental health," and as Julie-Su insists that she just wants to remain friends with Knuckles, the subject in question pops in through the window, prompting both women to hug him happily. He lets them know Tobor is currently taking care of some unfinished business, and the moment after he says that line, Haven's power finally comes back online, letting the Brotherhood resume their daily snooping into Knuckles' personal life.

Hey, Julie-Su, you said you wouldn't do that again like, two whole issues ago! Moritori Rex clearly disagrees that a pairing between Knuckles and Julie-Su is a good idea, however, given that well, until recently she was technically one of his subordinates. While the rest of the Brotherhood are content, seeming to believe from the sight in front of them that in the absence of their spying everything's just been all hugs and smiles, Moritori Rex quietly seethes in the background, realizing that with Tobor missing, his plans may quickly start to fall apart and his infiltration discovered. Dun dun duuuunnn…

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #kte 18 #writer: ken penders #pencils: manny galan #colors: barry grossman

[historyofmysery-blog]

KillThatLoveInsideYouBeforeSheBurns

I'll see you never. I'll see you, never. I'll see you... never. Never. I'll see you never illseeyounevernever i will never even see you i will never even see you see you never even see you. Fire in fractals and burn in brimstone, terms set beyond, teams set behind. Faggots and ferals, pariahs and perverts, that's who we are are. All of us none of us. We know what we've lived, at best, and we fear what we've wrought at worst. Floundering is life. Failure is life. Fear is life. Fucked is life. Worthless is life. Weightless is life. Worrisome is life. Life is lauded as toting happiness, an the fulfiller of hopes and dreams. But really life should be loathed. The fear, rejection, the anger, and loneliness eat away at you till your civility is compromised. Love should be lauded, to the compassionate the glory should go. Those who love selflessly, who take chances on introverts instead of convenience; they are the true bringers of happiness, harbingers of better times yet to come, most importantly they prove the *possibility* of being loved. For most people it's a matter of being loved appropriately or finding the ideal living arrangements by comparing potential candidates and a number of partners for a histories past, and that's ok; but those people can't understand those whom live beneath societal notice. There's a thin slice of the population caught between the niches of society that simply exist with majority of society unable to detect their presence. We are the societal ghosts. Righteous fury fills those abandoned by love, it fuels the hatred of the downtrodden. The nice, become the sad, become the angry, become the mean, and finally come to be hated, to be feared. Fear and pain, and sorrow and anger, confusion and shame; even my own emotions have relationships they are in. Everyone is taken, everyone is loved already. There's no room for participants, only painful, forced observers. My love: that dusty, abused and forgotten old tome, missing pages and showing in grotesque detail every every wound ever sustained. Every slight, a nick in the cover; every rejection, another burn into the profile of the book pages; every insult, another chapter torn out and lost to the chingale of time. Fear rots everything that hate doesn't burn and shame doesn't stagnate. I may fear no evil in The Valley of the Shadow of My Death, but I still loathe this dreary place. The corpses of my half-formed and entirely neglected dreams of my life and childhood decay under the harsh rays of self criticism that bake the self esteem into a desert as they steadily evaporate the last bastion of emotional life within me: Lake Morality. It's the only landmark left from my conservative Christian upbringing. Sure, the clever archaeologist could uncover clues as to my previously dear beliefs, but now they've been relegated to the broken pottery shards from an ancient pisspot found under a pile of ancient shit. That's what I am: a remnant lost in time, morals and self loathing set from a time long past and willpower as nonexistent as my lover. I'm a crippled, elderly man waiting to get crippled and elderly. Fear me Find me Fraud me Fail me Fuck me Fuck me Forget not, I'm broken already. You can break stones down; you can't break gravel down, all you do is polish it smaller, near to its final form: a double peppering of dust along my already inflamed bronchial tubes. And just like that peppering of dust, I'll take all your malice and spite and hock it out in a gnarled and frighteningly colored ball of flem and snot bubbles. Someone wanted me once. They noticed my absence and desired my attentions. That's all gone now. But that feeling of being desirable, that memory facilitating ecstasy; my body craves it. There was a time I could make someone happy, but then I couldn't. Now I can't make anyone happy. Sometimes you gotta take one for the team, old school style; segregate all you destructive tendencies and isolate them to yourself, then isolate yourself in open waters and wait for someone to burn you down to the waterline.

#EmotionalPlagueship