Because we don’t speak about sex, there is no socially acceptable language surrounding it. So the language of porn has jumped in to fill that space, and that’s an issue, because in a male-dominated industry the language of porn is all too often male-generated. The person who coined the term “finger blasting” didn’t have a vagina. The person who coined the term, “getting your ass railed” never got their ass railed. Pounding, hammering, banging… And language matters, because when the only language you have available is abusive and one-directional, in terms of having things done to you, it creates a very weird view of how sex works.
I put a “Her name was Leelah” picture up as my cover photo on facebook when that first happened, and I just now switched it to a “His name was Zander” one. Just after I put it up, I get this message from my dad. THIS is how to be a parent.
i think this is the first tumblr post that legitimately made me bawl.
With the exception of Selma, these are movies about white men coming of age, coping with old age, coping with genius, coping with a strong mind but frail body, coping with the burdens of patriotism and duty, and on and on.
These stories deserve to be told but they are not the only stories that deserve to be told. This is what we continually lose sight of. And in Selma, which is an outstanding movie, we see, yet again, the kind of story Academy voters are comfortable with when it comes to people of color–always about the history, about the struggle. Where is the Birdman for an aging Asian actress? Where is Girlhood, ambitiously chronicled over a number of years?
Roxane Gay, Some Thoughts on the 2015 Oscar Nominees (The Toast)
Even if women did uptalk more than men, we’ve all heard enough uptalk to know that its rising intonation doesn’t indicate a question. No one’s actually confused. So why should anyone have a problem with it? The thing is, this pastime of critiquing women’s speech is not limited to American English speakers. It’s easy to find these attitudes in any culture that devalues femininity and women. In Belfast English, stereotypical women’s speech falls at the end of a sentence, while men’s speech rises before it plateaus—basically, the men are uptalking. And yet Belfast women’s speech is still perceived as more expressive or emotional, showing that it’s not about their actual intonation at all: It’s about whose mouth the speech is coming from. (In fact, vocal fry leads to a lower-pitched voice, essentially the opposite of uptalk, and yet somehow that’s bad when young women do it too.)
And that’s definitely not the only study, and it’s not just gender. It’s race, it’s class, it’s sexuality, it’s geographic location, it’s many other factors. But linguists have never been able to show anything intrinsically good or bad, authoritative or unconfident, desirable or grating about any kind of pitch, inflection, or vocal quality. Instead, we ascribe those qualities to speech based on who’s articulating it. Think Black English sounds uneducated? That’s probably because you have some racist notions about black people. Does a Southern accent sound unintelligent to you? Their vowels aren’t to blame—it’s our stereotypes about people from the South. Think that uptalk makes women sound less authoritative? Maybe that’s because women are constantly robbed of agency and authority, and we view anything they do or say as less powerful.
Thank you to everyone who helped spread our story via social media. We have been a bit overwhelmed by the attention. We never expected to
get any sort of positive outcome from this situation, but we’re happy to tell
you that on Friday we spoke with Michael Mueller, Senior VP of Super 8,
and a refund has been initiated. We plan to donate that money to Maryhaven, a
phenomenal organization in Columbus that pounds the pavement every day, helping
Super 8 has taken full responsibility for the actions of one
independent owner/operator, and promises to work on the company’s internal
training and policies so that this never happens again. Michael expressed
gratitude to us for bringing this to his attention, before apologizing on behalf
of the hotel in question.
In addition to the refund, and promise of internal efforts to
prevent this from happening again, Super 8 is working behind the scenes with
our friends at Homeless To Higher Ed,
as they attempt to identify Stephanie and Louis. Should we find them, Michael
has generously offered to provideair and ground transport as well
as hotel rooms for them as they get back on track.
We hope you’ll take a look at this description of them and contact us if you’ve seen or
know Stephanie and Louis. If you should encounter them, tell them that Mr.
George and Miz Joyce are looking for them. Let them know they’ve made the news
and we still want to help!
In the meantime, we are eagerly exploring ways we can help here in northeastern Ohio. If our story outraged you,
we can only hope that it didn’t discourage you from trying to make a
difference…in fact, we hope our experience inspires you to find a way to help the
homeless where you are.
Once again, we thank you for helping us bring this to Super 8’s
attention, but this was never about taking down a hotel chain, it was about
helping people. We look forward to helping the homeless in our own backyard and
encourage everyone to do the same.
George and Joyce Gruss
Please read and REBLOG!
A lot of the sharing economy is about rebranding precarity as entrepreneurship.
“Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”
is this bxtch at five guys in a gown???? i swear i love her.
There’s no free food at the GRAMMYs until the after party, unless you’re working backstage or in the media center. If you’re there in time for red carpet arrivals that means you might go nearly 8 hours without food unless you eat bog standard Staples Center fare or have a power bar in your bag (or in your PA’s bag).
This leads to the amazing dichotomy of having thousands of distinguished guests in black tie getup rushing to the Staples concession stands whenever they can.
I know I sound like a broken record, but ‘Pie-Mary’ was a perfect episode. Love that they took on the men’s rights assholes. It was so good.
The thing about theatre is that it’s a ghost. It’s over even as you experience it, and even if the show you’re watching is filmed for later broadcast somewhere, the experience of watching a stage show on television or a movie screen just isn’t the same. That monologue or joke or musical number you really loved disappears even as you’re watching it, a mirage that evaporates with every word spoken. When I was a college theatre student, one of my favorite directors, a middle-aged woman who had the kind of world-weary voice you want in all middle-aged female professors, would give this sly grin in our Intro to Theatre classes and say that the thing that set theatre apart was that it was ephemeral. Other art endures; performances—in the theatre, in concerts, in other fine arts—have to die in the instant by their very natures. This professor would offer a rueful chuckle when she said that word, ephemeral, and she always sounded a little sad about the whole thing. And after another decade of life, I think I get it: To be involved in the theatre is to be constantly haunted.
Are you fucking kidding me? Like, no, Shakespeare wouldn’t tweet a sonnet cause 140 characters is a bit short for that. Wrong medium. But you know what he would have? A very active twitter FULL OF DICK PUNS AND YOUR MOM JOKES okay. (And probably also a blog for the sonnets and longer works, that cross-posts links to twitter anyway.)
Get out of here with that pretentious anti-technology bullshit.
He’d rock the fuck out of memes. Don’t deny it.
Exit, pursued by a doge.
much run wow
I don’t understand people who try to make Shakespeare into a pretentious thing cause he was basically an uneducated dick-joke making dude for the common masses. His historical plays are straight up fanfiction. There’s a scene in Macbeth where two guards are having a conversation as a dude pees on a wall. Get out of here with your Shakespeare snobbery.
me: someday i am totally getting you this for valentine’s day me: it’s the only logical extension of the succulent wreath turnabout: i never actually bought you the succulent wreath me: THAT’S WHY I SAID SOMEDAY
i’m not here to tell you “guys this movie is so important we have to save it”
this movie will save itself
because it’s SO TERRIBLE
(by the way if you think this power point is incomprehensible WAIT UNTIL YOU WATCH THE DAMN FILM, ZAZAZING!)
(also if you want some trigger warnings for this dumb film just let me know)
My favorite tag so far was @arrispect’s “#FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SPACE-HOLY GO SEE THIS MOVIE”
I think Jupiter Ascending makes a lot more sense if it’s understood not as the Wachowskis’ answer to Star Wars, but as the Wachowskis’ answer to Twilight. In space. Seriously, start mapping the characters over. The correspondence is nearly 1:1 in places.
(Also, not mentioned in this photoset: Rollerblading Werewolf Boyfriend’s penchant for saving the say by Kool-Aid Manning his way through a nearby wall. He does it like four times in the course of the film, and it’s funnier every single time it happens.)
In Obvious Child, the scenes with Jenny Slate and Gaby Hoffmann. When they hang out, Hoffmann brings her tea; they try on clothes and they’re throwing them at each other. There are similar scenes in Working Girl, but they don’t have the same intimacy. I feel like one of the things that male directors tend to miss is how intimate women are with each other in female friendships. Women are more likely to hug each other, share clothes or say ridiculous things to each other that they don’t say in mixed company. A lot of that gets lost when men try to translate female friendship on to the big screen.
Online and off, some teams consistently worked smarter than others. More surprisingly, the most important ingredients for a smart team remained constant regardless of its mode of interaction: members who communicated a lot, participated equally and possessed good emotion-reading skills.
Julie L. Mellby posts on Princeton University Library’s Graphic Arts
Collection blog about the Victorian “Change Packet,” a little paper
envelope that Victorian shopkeepers used to present customers’ change
(as Abi points out on Making Light, this embodies some odd assumptions,
like shopkeepers never shortchanging their customers, and customers not
wanting to spend their change at the next shop). These are beautiful
items, and have a fascinating history. From The Encyclopedia of Ephemera: a Guide to the Fragmentary Documents of Everyday Life for the Collector, Curator, and Historian (Michael Twyman, Maurice Rickards):
“Among the refinements of middle-class Victorian shopping was the giving
of change not directly from hand to hand but in paper packets.
Chamber’s Edinburgh Journal in a review of London shops and shopping (15
October 1853), makes passing note of the custom. A customer seeking to
buy a pair of kid gloves ‘is met at the door by a master of the
ceremonies, who escorts him to the precise spot where what he seeks
awaits him … He walks over rich carpets, in which his feet sink as
though upon a meadow-sward; and he may contemplate his portrait at full
length in half-a-dozen mirrors, while that pair of gentlemen’s kids at
2s 10 ½ d is being swaddled in tissue-paper, and that remnant of change
in the vulgar metal of which coal-scuttles are made … is being decently
interred in a sort of vellum sarcophagus ere it is presented to his
“The envelope, known as a ‘change packet,’ measured some 60 mm (2 ½ in)
square and was printed with the legend ‘The change, with thanks’, often
in a decorative roundel or other device. Printing was generally in a
single colour; sometimes the design appeared as a white, embossed image
on a coloured background.”
“The packets were supplied to the shopkeeper either as a stock design in
which there was no trade message, or printed specially to order with
name, address, and designation presented as a form of miniature trade
card. Additionally, the shopkeeper might be supplied with the packets at
much reduced rates, if not free of charge, by the new breed of national
advertisers who used the printing space on the packet for their own
message. Typical of these were Huntley & Palmers, biscuit
manufacturers, whose change packets were widely used. Their Royal
Appointment design appears in two packet sizes and a variety of
At SideChef, we spend a lot of time in the kitchen. At first, it felt like an indulgence, to spend time at the office cooking, developing recipes, and testing techniques. Now it feels like the best type of work there is.
Who the was the GENIUS behind mixing Mumford and Sons and Ke$ha?!
Who gave you the right.
THIS IS THE MOST SHAKESPEAREAN THING I HAVE EVER HEARD EVER
Today’s most interesting apps (Snapchat, Secret, et al) are designed to support Big Dating, offering discreet, asynchronous, anonymish, non-exclusive communications. Multiplied against algorithms that optimize the pool of potential partners for connection (requiring no more than swipe left, swipe left, swipe right to operate), romantic partners are now more fungible than ever. Scary! Exciting!
I have been photographing New York City during snowstorms at night for the past 5 years. When it comes to experiencing New York City in the snow, I relish the challenge. The more gusty and snowy the storm, the more of a chance that I will be out in it traipsing around New York City with my cameras in tow.
When I heard that the MTA was suspending all transit service (and most vehicles) at 11 pm, I made the decision to take the train up to the Upper East Side prior to 11 pm to deposit myself up there with the intention of walking from the Upper East Side to Times Square and then walking the several miles back to my apartment on the Lower East Side.
The streets were eerily empty.
Since there was a ban on all vehicles aside from snow plows and emergency services, there were practically no cars at all on the streets.
Even taxis were banned from the streets!
I walked in the middle of avenues and streets that are usually teeming with cars.
There were a few intrepid explorers out and about on bicycles and on foot…
And when I finally made it back to my neighborhood, an empty Houston Street greeted me…
There aren’t many nights like this in New York City.
I love the person I’ve become, because I fought to become her.
Noord Hollander, a Dutch 4-year aged Gouda, is wonderful in all ways one expects from an aged Gouda: a firm but still creamy golden amber paste, lightly eyed and speckled with “flavor crystals” (actually formed by the amino acid Tyrosine, which over time breaks down the fats and proteins, which crystallize into deposits throughout the paste). In flavor it is sweet and butterscotchy with toasted hazelnut and popcorn notes and even hints of bourbon and spice.
I’m honored to congratulate you on surviving another meeting that should have been an email! You can claim your reward for a mere here.
I need a billion of these. Please and thank you.
I wonder how many of these I could pass out at work before I got caught/got in trouble for it.
“My mother used to say something that drove me nuts,” Cheryl pauses in the glow of the horizon line. “There’s a sunrise and a sunset every day, and you can choose to be there for it. You can put yourself in the way of beauty.” The power of being beneath giant trees and unmoveable mountains, under a fire-lit sky or a moon with the seeming ability to follow, is that they remind us of how much more there is to the world than our own imagined problems. That there are lives out there we’ll never know, and the constant balance to the whir of modern life in the idea that the people who have passed before us nevertheless looked up at the very same things, holed up inside themselves with the very same questions.
I want to write movies. I will write movies. I want to know there is no limit to the potential of a movie I write. I want to know I can write parts for people with brown skin or unruly bodies or thick accents or breasts and know that people will recognize the importance of the stories those people have to tell. We don’t write to win awards or nominations but no one wants to write into a culture where our stories will never be recognized as excellent when they are told in excellent ways.