I haven’t posted much sauciness on Tumblr as of late, but it’s the last hour of my birthday and IDGAF (sorry to my sister who does follow my Tumblr and probably could do without this photo).
Also this is a gentle reminder not only to myself but to all the impatient fellows that a) sometimes it takes 39 years to be completely comfortable with one’s body and one’s sense of self, and b) it’s ok to be 39 and still not know what you want to be when you grow up, because fuck grown-up, yo.
Pretty sure a straight guy cosplaying Zangief.
I walked up to him and said he was attractive and he said, “Thanks! You want me to touch you’re butt?” And he did. He did. Awesome guy.
Can…can “Thanks! You want me to touch your butt?” just be the general reciprocation of gratitude we use in society from now on?
they literally grow big every single time
they get giant, you get the megazord, you fight, they blow up, super mega win
this happens every week
Photo courtesy of Migizi Pensoneau The 1491s with Jason Jones of “The Daily Show.” Editor’s note: Last night “The Daily Show” aired a controversial segment…
devices of power and privilege
“The next morning, football Sunday, the three of us went to FedEx Field as part of the show. “The Daily Show” taped us wandering around the “Redskins Nation” tailgate, though that never made it on air. I, rather naively, thought maybe we’d be able use our presence at the tailgate as a way to showcase our humanity, and let the Washington Team know that there are Native Americans out there who are among them—real people not relegated to the eternal myth of history. Maybe we’d change a mind or two. Or, at least, maybe some ignorant hilarity could be caught on camera. It was worth a try, so with a camera crew following us, one little, two little and a third big Indian struck out into FedEx Field’s Redskin Nation tailgate.
That did not go as I’d hoped.
There were points during that hour-long experience where I actually was afraid for my life. I have never been so blatantly threatened, mocked or jeered. It was so intense, so full of vitriol that none of the footage ended up being used in the segment. I’m a big dude—6’1”, and a lotta meat on the bones. But a blonde little wisp of a girl completely freaked me out as I waited in line for the bathroom. “Is that shirt supposed to be funny?” she asked motioning to my satirical “Caucasians” T-shirt. And then she said, “I’ll fucking cut you.” Actually, she didn’t scare me so much as the wannabe linebackers standing behind her who looked like they wanted to make good on her threat.
On one level, I get it. I’m walking around with an ironic T-shirt on, being a Native in the middle of FedEx Field with a camera crew from “The Daily Show” nearby. But amid the jeers, mocking and threats, did I cry, and accuse them of ambush? No, because I knew what I was getting myself into. It’s “The Daily Show.” I know the format. More than that though, I didn’t back down or break down because I knew in my heart and conscience I was doing the right thing, as silly as the method may have been.
I think back to the tailgate: the man blowing cigar smoke in my face, the man who mockingly yelled, “Thanks for letting us use your name!”, the group who yelled at us to “go the fuck home,” the little waif who threatened to cut me, the dude who blew the train horn on his truck as I walked by the hood. I think of all of that, and I think back to O’Dell crying and trying desperately to get out of the room full of calm Natives. I thought she was crying because she was caught unawares and was afraid. But I realized that was her defense mechanism, and that by overly dramatizing her experience, she continued to trivialize ours. It was privilege in action. And as I realized these things, something else became incredibly clear: She knew she was wrong.”
Don’t read the comments.
Imagine hating your own characters this much
and here we see the inevitability of mortality. That everything that ever mattered to us will eventually turn into this, and that nothing truly mattered at all.
And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.
Ultimate Spider-Man creators, Man of Action, diss Spectacular Spider-Man. Outright diss it.
Oh, hey. Go fuck yourselves.
I didn’t really give a shit about Ultimate Spider-Man besides the fact that I never enjoyed it like the Spectacular iteration (or any iteration before it) and didn’t really bother watching. But I can respect any show that does something new, and I was excited to see Miles Morales coming on.
But now…what the actual fuck. That’s unprofessional, and nothing good can come out of comments like that beyond pissing people off.
Look, you’re already in a state of power. You arrived riding the crest of an explosion in popularity of Marvel properties, not the crest of a then-struggling studio and a film franchise in flux. You got bigger episode orders from the getgo. You got on a network that reran it over and over from the getgo. You got better advertising from the getgo. Spectacular Spider-Man had none of that, and despite the uphill battle, was, for all intents and purposes, financially successful and received universal acclaim. It didn’t fail, it got squashed by shifting networks, a shitty legal acquisition, and horrible timing, and if it weren’t for its own shitty “Parker Luck”—not ratings or merchandising or whatever, but sheer luck—you wouldn’t even be on the air. Which you are, by the way, when Spectacular Spider-Man was unceremoniously axed after a network switch, a year-delayed second season, and a finale that was somehow aired without the fucking dialogue audio attached and then wasn’t reran again for a long time.
That’s the definition of kicking someone while they’re down.
The Terminator (1984)