“If minorities are box office risks, what accounts for the success of the “Fast and Furious” franchise, which presented a broadly diverse team, behind and in front of the camera? Over seven movies it has grossed nearly $4 billion worldwide. In fact, a recent study by the Ralph J. Bunche Center for African American Studies at the University of California, Los Angeles, found that films with diverse leads not only resulted in higher box office numbers but also higher returns of investment for studios and producers.”
“
“If minorities are box office risks…”
IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THE “BOX OFFICE RISK” HERE IS MINORITIES, FAM. LOOKS LIKE IT ACTUALLY MIGHT BE WHITE WASHED FILMS, MY GUY.
Bunch
of white straight dudes mock the need for “safe spaces” but flip their
goddamn shit when minorities say stuff like “hey maybe we can be
included in stuff like scifi/fantasy stuff”, saying stuff like “I PLAY
GAMES/READ COMICS/BOOKS/WATCH MOVIES TO GET AWAY FROM ALL THIS PC
CULTURE BULLSHIT, SO INCLUDING WOMEN OR LGBT OR POC IS JUST PUSHING AN
AGENDA AND IT’S NOT FAIR TO US”…
… So who exactly is demanding that the entire world be THEIR “safe space” again?
Wow, it's almost like these Repub Govs don't actually believe in personal responsibility, isn't it, Gov. Snyder?
Just how desperate is North Carolina GOP Gov. Pat McCrory to lay the blame for HB2 on anyone but himself? Well, this sitting governor has now released an attack email against a sitting mayor: Charlotte's Jennifer Roberts. Nothing like punching downward—that’s what all the political analysts recommend. Jim Morrill has the details on McCrory's latest re-election strategy, starting with the email’s headline:
“Roy Cooper Ally Jennifer Roberts Admitted She Thought About Leaving Out The Bathroom Mandate, But Pushed It Through Anyway,” a headline says. [...]
McCrory’s email includes TV and radio clips of Roberts talking about House Bill 2. [...]
“The clips … should help refresh your memory that the topic of bathrooms was first raised by the radical left when – over warnings from the governor and other state leaders that they should have left restroom norms way they were and focus on things … Roy Cooper’s allies decided to push through Charlotte’s radical bathroom mandate anyway,” said McCrory campaign spokesman Ricky Diaz.
Fact: Charlotte passed a measure that affirmed people's judgment in making the appropriate bathroom choice.
Fact: North Carolina lawmakers passed a Big Brother bill dictating to people which bathrooms they must use, because apparently The People can't be entrusted with such a decision.
This whole “Charlotte made us do it!” shtick is just ridiculous. McCrory is supposed to be the state’s frickin’ chief executive for crying out loud, not a marionette.
Now unless he finds a previously unreleased clip of Jennifer Roberts slipping him a Mickey, then placing the pen in his hand and guiding it across the bill, his HB2 signature is on him and him alone. Sorry, guv.
Hasn’t Mark Hamill been playing The Joker for 20 shitzillion years? How come he never got “consumed” by the role?
cause hes not an ass
seriously–that’s one of my favorite things. while jared leto is over there talking about how playing a PG-13 Joker has irreparably turned him into a dark and twisted psychopath, mark hamill, who has played the meanest and scariest versions of the joker for years, is running around being an actual ray of human sunshine.
so there’s this story that my grandmother loves telling (well, in recent years. for the first seventy years of her life she did not talk about her childhood at all.)
the story is that a family friend of theirs was Austria’s finance minister*, and Jewish, and after the anschluss he realized he was in trouble, but like many of Austria’s Jews he seriously underestimated how much trouble. by the time he realized it was too late to get out safely. He was also old and in failing health, so dramatics weren’t ideal.
so he asked a family member to drive him to the mountains on the Italian-Austrian border, and he’d cross there. It was easy enough to avoid the Austrian authorities going out, but you didn’t have a chance of avoiding the Italian ones, and they stopped him.
“Oh,” he said to them, “Benito knows me. Tell him I’m here and he’ll call me a car.” And indeed, they called Mussolini and he called him a car.
My reaction the first time I heard this story - and the reaction of everyone I’ve told it to - has been “so Mussolini opposed the Holocaust? He was helping smuggle Jews out of Austria?” And, no, he didn’t and wasn’t. But he knew this guy, they were old friends, the guy was in town, so Benito called him a car. Which is more characteristic of humans than the version where Mussolini was secretly a decent person, really. A million is a statistic, but this guy? I know this guy. He’s a great guy.
There’s the phrase ‘the banality of evil’, and I think it applies, but the word that’s always come to my mind is the myopia of evil, the tendency to treat People well but just not look out at the world and see billions of People, not believe that the principles you apply to the ones you know apply to all of them everywhere.
what most people think fat people mean when they try to open up a dialogue about fatphobia in medicine:
after addressing my immediate medical complaints or pressing issues, a doctor, out of genuine concern, mentioned that eating healthy and exercising are good for me, took down my weight, and casually mentioned in passing that my high BMI was statistically associated with some health risks.
what fat people are really saying:
i’m discouraged by anti-fat bias and prejudice that is prevalent in society at large but especially in the medical community, as it has real negative and sometimes life-threatening consequences. i have been humiliated and both indirectly and directly harmed by medical practitioners’ negligence caused by internalized fat phobic discrimination, which has included but is not limited to;
doctors refusing to treat fat patients with any other prescription other than the recommendation of weight loss by any means possible even when there is not scientific or statistical relationship between being fat and the complaint at hand;
doctors treating fat patients like they’re subhuman and not making an effort to actually find a solution or cause of a complaint, refusing them necessary medications because they might cause weight gain;
ascribing moral value to weight and perpetuating the idea that fat people are bad and less worthy of treatment than people who are thin;
having to repeatedly go through being shamed and recommended harmful practices including crash dieting that helped encourage or created disordered eating and reinforced negative body image;
having all of this start in childhood in some cases letting their bias cloud their judgment to the point that fat people have actually died from not getting the same treatment afforded to thin people;
all of the above which add up to fed up fat people reasonably requesting that theyre treated with respect… the goal here being that when i or any other fat person walk into a doctors office that we dont have to worry that we won’t be denied, belittled, or humiliated out of receiving the treatment we deserve as much as thin people do.
Why do witches like always wanna fatten kids up before they eat them?? fat is like the grossest part of meat
“Why hello there, little children~. Please follow me to my magical… FITNESS ROOM. NO P A N S I E S ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT. LEAVE YOUR WHINING AT THE DOOR BECAUSE IT’S LEG DAY AND WE’RE ABOUT TO GET R-R-R-RIPPE D.”
Because they’re always cooking said kids in cauldrons and ovens - aka long cooking times at lowish heat. If you do that to fatty meat, the fat melts completely and the meat gets tear-it-apart-with-a-fork soft. If you do it to lean meat, you get tiny little sad meat bits that bring no joy to anyone.
He is such an underrated character. He was a cinnamon role and just wanted to help the entire movie. No Hans bullshit, no pressuring her into a relationship, just love.
You know how anti-abortion propaganda pegs women as emotionally distraught, sad and alone after their abortions? I was one of them.
I never expected it. Leading up to the procedure, I was laughing my ass off in the clinic, joking with my best friend about how we wanted to keep the “sack of cells” to put on the mantle.
But in the three weeks following my abortion, I sobbed at everything. Being alone was debilitating. I lost my shit and banged my head. Laugher was a foreign concept.
I was everything the pro-lifers said I would be.
When I wasn’t sobbing, I was rolling around in bed, with just enough energy to want to get out of bed, but too little to put my feet to the floor. And when I was up, I snapped. I screamed when something went wrong—or just not right.
As in not finding a spatula—this was grounds for a full-on breakdown in the kitchen, because not finding it meant not making myself lunch, which meant eating out, which meant spending money, which meant time not working and not working meant I wasn’t functioning.
I was equating my self-worth to my ability to find a spatula.
I threw the rest of the utensils on the floor, partly out of desperation, partly out of rage. I slammed the drawer. I hit my head with my palm. I wanted the mess in my head out. I wanted out.
It was ironic though, that I, the usual dreamer of escape plans, of plan Bs, Cs and Ds, was unable to see the several other spatula-like utensils in my kitchen, or recognize the other lunch options crowded in the fridge.
I was not myself.
On less volatile days, I begged my husband to stay. I begged him to come for me at lunch, to leave work early, to arrive at work late. I was being clingy—I, the one who shoos everyone out of the house on the regular, because they disturb my sacred workspace.
When my husband did leave for work, I created imaginary situations about how I was going to end up alone. He was going to leave. He was just waiting for the right day. Surely he would reach a breaking point with me. Surely everyone would. How much of my emotions could anyone take? Even I couldn’t take much more.
Logic was gone from my brain and my body. I couldn’t make sense of anything. My head was constantly spinning in some vicious cycle. I wasn’t myself. I felt powerless.
I was everything the pro-lifers said I would be—except regretful. I didn’t regret the abortion. At all.
That’s when I understood what was really happening to me. It was the hormones.
I remember the day. I was in the shower. I couldn’t get over this idea of loneliness. Sure, I had outbursts before, courtesy of synthetic hormones. But never had I felt so alone. I loved being alone. It wasn’t like me to be distraught over it.
And then it hit me.
“Oxytocin! It’s the oxytocin!!!” I blurted out. My mouth hung open as I stared into space processing it all. “It’s the oxytocin.”
Somehow my mind had wandered back to ninth grade health class in—guess what—Catholic school. The lesson was on hormones. While the teacher brushed as quickly over the topic as possible, he did manage to sputter out a few facts on oxytocin, AKA the bonding hormone. We learned it was what connected mothers and children and husbands and wives. That was it.
What the teacher really wanted to say was that oxytocin plays a major role in pregnancy, and it gives your orgasms that toe-tingling wow-factor. But you know, this was Catholic school—where the smoke from the burning fires of hell clouds the curriculum.
Somehow this nugget of information stuck with me, all the way to my post-abortion meltdown.
So I thought: If oxytocin was responsible for bonding, could the lack of it be responsible for my loneliness? And if my body was producing more of it because of the pregnancy, did production stop as the sack was yanked out of my uterus? And did this send a shock through my body and mind?
I was betting yes. I set to researching as soon as I got out of the shower. My hormones were way imbalanced. This I knew. The powerless feeling reminded me of all those times they gave me depression and bipolar meds and nothing changed until I threw away my birth control pills.
My weepiness was so absurd it had to be related to estrogen. My mood swings and racing thoughts were just like those I would get from the pseudo-bipolar hormonal imbalances.
But all this from the voluntary expulsion of some cells? This was new territory.
I knew women suffered from some pretty messed-up hormonal imbalances after giving birth. Post-partum depression is a widely recognized issue, even if it isn’t completely understood.
So I researched that. And what did I find? Oxytocin. Turns out that women with lower levels of oxytocin are at higher risk for post-partum depression.
Hmmmm, I thought.
So what about miscarriages? After all, your body is used to producing extra pregnancy hormones and then it stops.
And then what about abortions? Technically, it’s the same in the eyes of the uterus. This search took a little more effort.
While I did find evidence claiming that miscarriages cause hormone imbalances and emotions like that of post-partum depression, it wasn’t as forthcoming.
We talk a lot about women being depressed after a miscarriage, but not in a physiological context. The tone set by the American Pregnancy Association and the American Psychological Association is that these post-miscarriage emotions happen because of the sadness caused by the loss of the baby, as if hormonal changes are a mere add-on.
But that’s not always true. I wasn’t sad that I lost a baby or killed some cells or however you want to see it. I didn’t regret it. But I was still so, so sad.
Unfortunately, no one gives you a pamphlet in the abortion clinic warning that your hormonal changes may fuck up the next month of your life.
Other countries do, but not ours. Australia, even Canada, and the most Catholic Ireland acknowledges the hormonal changes that lead to emotional distress (within the context of a miscarriage, of course).
These are just the facts we need to be spreading. This is the dialogue we need to be creating.
I’m not crazy. We’re not crazy. The ones who dismiss physiological issues for psychological concerns are the ones who need to be examined. Not us.
Kudos to the women who already know this and thank you to the ones who are sharing it.
For more on the subject of abortion and hormonal imbalance, check out
Period Makeover and PASS Awareness.
Yes! After losing a pregnancy to abortion or miscarriage your hormones change dramatically. It is completely normal to be very emotional during this time. I’d like to add that it’s also normal to have a lot of emotions that have nothing to do with the hormone changes. Any and all post abortion emotions are real and valid no matter how or why you’re feeling them.
@xojane-yahoopartner thank you so much for writing this. i never fully understood my post abortion depression quite this well before.
holy shit yall, signal boost the FUCK out of this.
I’m reblogging to add that we need this science to protect women from being emotionally manipulated into unnecessary guilt by the far right.
Women who terminate are not validating anti-choicers by experiencing these emotions.
Here’s a lil cute 3 min video for you white folk on how white privilege is real, and how you can use it for good :)
“My sister-in-law, who’s half black half white, but looks white. Blue eyes, whiter than most white folks. Very white. Uh, she and I you know, we kind of grew up together, we raised our children together, so they’re first cousins, and we you know, it’s wonderful- very very multicultural family.
So we’re going into Safeway one day. And Kathleen, my sister-in-law, is in front of me. And she’s uh, you know, writing a check for groceries. And my daughter who at the time was 10 years old was standing with me, and I was directly behind her, getting ready to get my groceries. So Kathleen comes up, and the checker, who’s a strawberry blonde, um freckled, very delightful, warm um…. you know, the checker, this young woman. she’s talking to Kathleen, [cheery voice] ‘Hey how you doing? Isn’t it a nice day today?’ you know they’re just chatting up, so Kathleen writes her check and she steps to the side with her groceries, cause she’s waiting for me. Of course again, Kathleen looks white, right?
So I come up. No conversation, she looks up at me, absolutely no.. just little chatter, and I write my check. My daughter however, is 10, notices immediately the difference in how she responds to me. So I write my check, and she goes [stern voice] ‘I’m gonna need two pieces of ID.’ At which point my daughter looks at me, and she gets very very embarrassed, and tears are kind of coming up in her eyes, like ‘mommy, you’re not gonna let her do this, why is she doing this to us?’ right?
So I’m trying to figure out what I should do. Cause behind me are two elderly white women. [chuckles] Right? So I’m thinking ‘so then I become the ‘angry black woman’ [chuckles] right? And they’re gonna be- I’m just trying to second guess all the drama. So then I just give her the two pieces of ID, I said you know some things you just gotta choose your battles, right?
And then it gets worse. She pulls out the ‘bad check’ book. [laughs] Right? So this is the book that shows people who have written bad checks. So she starts searching for my licence in the bad checks. At which point, it’s just out of control now.
Just as I’m standing there, um, trying to decide what to do, and it’s really, deeply humiliating, now my daughters in- full blown emotionally upset- who’s 10. My sister-in-law walks back over. and she steps in and she says ‘Excuse me. Why are you doing this?’ and the checker goes [defensively] ‘Well what- [stutters] what do you mean?’ ‘Why are you taking her through all these changes? Why are you doing that?’ She goes ‘Well this is our policy!’ She goes ‘No it’s not your policy, because you didn’t do that with me.’ [dismissively] ‘Oh, well I know you, you’ve been-’ She goes ‘No no, she’s been here for years, I’ve only lived here for three months.’
And so at this point the two white elderly ladies go [disgusted scoff; slightly southern, white lady voice] ‘I can’t believe what this checker is doing with this woman, it is totally unacceptable!’ At which point, the manager walks over! And so the manager walks over and says ‘Is there a problem here?’ and then again my sister-in-law responds, she says ‘Yes, there is a problem here. Here’s what happened.’
So you see, she used her white privilege. And even though Kathleen is half black half white, she recognizes what that means. And she made the statement, she pointed out the injustice, and she as a result of that one act influenced everyone in that space. But what would have happened- I can’t know for certain- had the black woman said ‘This is unfair! Why are you doing this to me?’ Would it have had the same impact? But Kathleen knew that she walked through the world differently than I did. She used her white privilege to educate, and to make right a situation that was wrong. That’s what you can do. Every single day.”
“If your work is published as YA—which is another thing a lot of writers don’t have any control over—you’re being published within this bizarre set of cultural expectations that nobody puts on books published as adult literature—that books need to have some kind of redemptive message, or lesson, or their characters should model good decisions for their readers, or only have consent-negotiated protected sex within a loving and supportive long-term relationship, or whatever. Nobody’s like, ‘I’m really concerned middle-aged white men are going to read Jonathan Franzen and think it’s okay to have extramarital affairs with a caricature of a woman of color randomly inserted into the story for narrative convenience.’”
-male nerds seem agree that being nerds makes them less attractive to normal women
-so why would normal women pretend to be nerds to be more attractive to men who are already less attractive than normal men
-things like tv shows and books and videogames are designed to be fun and accessible to a fairly wide range of potential consumers. they are products being sold for money, not some kind of exclusive sadkid narnia club you only get into by being pure of heart and testicle
-hey you know what’s not fun? exclusionary sexual harassment
-why would normal women enter into hostile spaces just to look attractive to the hostile men making those spaces so fucking toxic for women, when being attractive to those men is only going to invite vicious, resentful sexual harassment? we all fucking know this. all geeky women know this. the only geeky women who don’t know this are young teens, and they get fucking taught.
-you know that ‘boo hoo highschool was traumatic people were mean to me just because of who i was and what i liked’ gauntlet that male nerds think entitles them to be shitheads forever? female geeks never get to exit that gauntlet, thanks to male geeks. it goes on, and on, and on for us. and yet: we’re still fucking here.
-hey, you know what? there are women who only exist to artificially pander to male nerd’s baser instincts. they’re fictional. they’re the characters in the shows and games and comics that male nerds go goddamn ham over. they’re the fictional female fuckdolls men keep fucking pumping out by the truckload, for each other.
-so anyway, if a woman says she’s a geek, she’s a geek. if she’s hot and posts a picture of her sticking a goddamn game controller up her personal business and says ‘i’m a geek!’ she’s a geek. if you don’t like her, she’s still a geek, and also, you can go fuck yourself.
Smartphones, search engines, and translators can break language barriers easy enough, but what if you wanted to know how to do things yourself? This guide will show you all the tips and tricks you need to identify almost any language in a matter of seconds.
nani was NINETEEN and such a fucking badass who was so protective of lilo and just ROLLED with aliens being a thing towards the end of the movie. #1 Disney relative of all time.
I used to get mad when men would make jokes about how women’s periods make them irrational, but now I just remember that during Victorian times, a table’s legs were thought to arouse men so they invented table cloths to cover them up so men wouldn’t get erections during dinner
I might cry for no reason but at least I’ve never gotten a BONER for a fucking TABLE
