The Simple Fact Is That In Retrospect Whatever We Do WILL Have Been Either An Under- Or An Overreaction.

Rusty-spotted cat | World’s smallest cat

every. damn. night.

I’m a procrustinator: I compulsively s t r e t c h out or cut short any task so that it fits exactly into the night before it’s due

Mythology puns, go!

Get to it, mortals!

(by @SarcasticRover on Twitter, I think)

The commendable desire to reduce conflict with bears has a long and distinguished pre-history.

Just imagine the Avengers going to Ikea, and Thor is the only one who can pronounce the name of anything. 

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.

And in time it came to pass that a young man by the name of Outis came of age in that city; and, as with all who lived in that city, he was taken to a secret place where a wise elder showed him a small cold dirty room. And in that room there was a small cold dirty child, naked and hurt and starving, who had never known the least human kindness.

And the wise elder said to Outis, “In our city, everything is good and no one suffers. But it all depends on this child. If the least kindness is shown to him, our city will become like all other cities. There must always be such a child in Omelas.” …

…And Outis said to the elder, “If our city becomes like all other cities, many children will suffer.” And so he became a citizen of Omelas. And Outis led a good and happy and fulfilling life; and the child continued to suffer.

…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he walked away from Omelas. And Outis led a cold and short and brutish life; and the child continued to suffer.

…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there.

…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas carried on as it always had; and from that day forth no child suffered there.

…And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there.

But Outis, who would leave no child to suffer, worked tirelessly to save each one of them, and to build with his own hands a city in which everyone lived a good and happy and fulfilling life; and so in time it came to pass that the latter days of Omelas were greater than the former. And for ten trillion years Omelas carried on, and no child ever suffered there again.

…And Outis said to the elder, “Nevertheless, this child is my son, and I will not leave him to suffer.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the city of Omelas became like all other cities; and many children suffered there. But Outis did not care, because he valued the well-being of his son over all of them.

…And Outis asked the elder, “Why?” And the elder showed him to a library filled with books. And Outis studied the books for many years. And when he was an old man with a gray beard, Outis went out of the library and returned to the child and took the child out of the room, and in the child’s place he put a stone. And the stone was naked and dirty and cold; and the child Outis took and bathed and cared for. And Omelas carried on as it always had; and from that day forth no child suffered there.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives; except for one child, who suffered so that the city might prosper. And all who lived there knew of this…

…And each citizen of Omelas, having looked into himself and seen that he would stand by while a child suffered in abject misery, found in himself a new willingness to do dark and evil deeds. And in time, all those who lived in Omelas suffered.

…And each citizen of Omelas lived with the gnawing guilt of his complicity, and the abiding terror that his own child would be chosen as the next to suffer. And in time it seemed to them that they could take no joy in any of the glories of Omelas.

…And one night, the child rose up and went out of his room and killed all the people of Omelas in their sleep.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives. And each morning, each citizen of Omelas was taken to a small cold dirty room, and shown a small cold dirty child, and told that the child must suffer so that his day might be filled with all good things.

And all in Omelas agreed that it was better that one child should suffer than many; and none of them ever asked if it was the same child they saw each morning. And after all, one small cold dirty child looks much like another.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives; except for ten thousand children, who suffered so that the city might prosper. And all who lived there knew of this…

…but none of them were ever taken to see the children in person, so none of them ever did anything about it.

…and whenever anyone saw such a child and “shouldn’t we rescue that suffering child?”, the other citizens of Omelas laughed and replied to them, “Naïve fool! Don’t you know that a child must always suffer in Omelas, so that the city may prosper? Otherwise it would become like all other cities, and many children would suffer.”

And everyone nodded wisely and went along with their days; and so ten thousand children continued to suffer where it might have been only one.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.

And in time it came to pass that a young man by the name of Outis came of age in that city; and, as with all who lived in that city, he was taken to a secret place where a wise elder showed him a small cold dirty room. And in that room there was a small cold dirty child, naked and hurt and starving, who had never known the least human kindness.

And the wise elder said to Outis, “In our city, everything is good and no one suffers. But it all depends on this child. If the least kindness is shown to him…”

“…the city will continue on as it always has, only your internet will be slightly slower.”

And Outis went back up into the city, and on that day he became a citizen of Omelas; and the child continued to suffer.

“…the best predictions of our scientists suggest that there will be a slight average decrease in various hard-to-measure kinds of happiness, which nevertheless in total adds up to more suffering than this child experiences.”

And Outis said to the elder, “I will have no part in this evil thing.” And he took the child and bathed him and cared for his wounds. And the average happiness increased in some ways and decreased in others, and the net effect might have been negative, but the best results on the matter had p > 0.05, so the scientists of Omelas could not rule out the null hypothesis.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.

And in Omelas there was a naked dirty child in a small dirty room; because the child was agoraphobic and was making mudpies.

Once upon a time there was a city called Omelas, where everyone lived good and happy and fulfilling lives.

Very few people told stories about Omelas, but it was a very nice place to live in.

A lot of people use tumblr for a mix of personal posts and fandom/ aesthetic/ whatever else posts. And the funny thing about that is just, followers can just kinda come and go at random. They have no sense of what the continuity is with these personal posts. They’re joining spontaneously in the middle with no context of what the blogger has been blogging about for years. They just saw a a good piece of Gravity Falls fanart in the tag and hit follow. 

From the blog owner’s perspective the personal posts make up one long coherent narrative about what’s been happening in their life, posts building on older posts, updates about changing schools and jobs and houses, personal threads of drama and conflict. Meanwhile unsuspecting Gravity Falls fan hits follow five years into the blog’s existence and the first thing on their dash is Update, part 47, yes my head is still stuck in the fence. good news is i can now reach the garden hose so i have a steady stream of water to lap up. Jonathon has not returned with the butter

I think a lot of people just... don’t take things literally? The other day I saw on Instagram a post of someone’s tweet thread absolutely ripping into men with no exceptions, yesallmen and how dare anyone say otherwise, and the same person also had an Instagram account and near the top of her grid she’d written a loving Father’s Day post about her wonderful dad. I think to a great extent it’s rhetoric, words as war, arguments as soldiers, not meant to be *true*. And the people who get really hurt by this are those who find it hard to conceive of discourse/argument where truth isn’t the point. I’m probably not diagnosable with autism but feel like my ways of thinking are... autistic-adjacent? (please don’t let that land me in in identity hell) and I do think it may be partly an autism thing.

On the other hand I think some people really get off on being cruel to others under the guise of moral purity. And there’s a symbiosis between these people (natural born inquisitors?) and the ones who genuinely want to promote being kind and doing the right thing and don’t see a problem with using hyperbole, generalisations, false arguments and contradictions if the cause is just.

Also, @funereal-disease, I’m crying from reading your post because it resonates so much. Also I’m utterly terrified to post this but I’m going to do it now.

You are a whole person 100% of the time, not just when you are fashionable. You are not a collection of Identities that can be alternately platformed and deplatformed. This is what intersectionality was supposed to mean, but in almost all respects it has failed miserably.

edinburgh, 2019

Is anyone else forever frustrated that hearting a single post in a long and vicious argument on here means every previous iteration is hearted too and how will people know which side I’m rooting for? I dunno