@kaidadragonfly / kaidadragonfly.tumblr.com
me as a hotel receptionist: *greets guests by playing hotel california but cutting it off right before they say california*
Me presenting my rock collection: *plays the start of Roxanne but cuts it off before the “anne”*
the Champton of Brampton
The old school lack of transparency on tumblr is amazing because you assume the people you follow must all be equivalent to you and then you see someone write “I brought my youngest to college today” and someone else write “my mom wouldn’t let me listen to Ariana Grande when I was a kid” and then your head explodes
and we need that! keeps us humble.
Then I'm just like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE AN ADULT
It goes the other way, too, because WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE A CHILD?!!
I'm 16, that's like, barely a child
I'm in my 30s. You are baby
I'm older than both of you in a trenchcoat.
honestly one of the best things we can do for ourselves is realize that people of different ages than us can still be the same kind of person as us. it's humbling and it gives everyone involved a sense of continuity, and it busts those stupid generational stereotypes media is so fond of.
Studies show that approaching youth with a bystander-intervention model is actually a lot more effective for reducing sexual assault, and it is also more enthusiastically received than programs that bill themselves as anti-rape.
We can tell youth that they are basically “rapists waiting to happen” (anti-rape initiative), or we can tell them that we know they would intervene if they saw harm happening to someone and we want to help empower them to do that (bystander intervention). The kids jump in with both feet for the latter! It was amazing to see children (and young boys in particular) excited to do this work and engage their creativity with it. Also, studies show that not only do they go on to intervene, but they also do not go on to sexually assault people themselves. Bystander intervention also takes the onus off the person being targeted to deter rape and empowers the collective to do something about it. It answers the question in the room when giggling boys are carrying an unconscious young woman up the stairs at a house party, and people are not sure how to respond and are waiting for “someone” to say or do something.
Richard M. Wright, “Rehearsing Consent Culture: Revolutionary Playtime” in the anthology Ask: Building Consent Culture edited by Kitty Stryker
This is also, btw, how the US drastically reduced drunk driving in the US. Telling people they shouldn’t drive when intoxicated made absolutely zero difference. A slogan-and-ad-campaign for “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk!” changed drinking culture. Going after the bystanders is quite often the most effective thing to do in any social change.
Ok, I adore the Frogs to begin with, but the sheer finesse and dedication of this one boggles my mind.
me: this is cute and precious
my brain: 45 years ago this person could've made a public access television show that ran for half a decade on the strength of this concept with the right framing device and it would've been paid for with federal arts grants and maybe even national syndication rights. now they're begging for a single minute of engagement on tiktok in the hopes that maybe someday the abstract metrics of digital media platforms will translate into a tangible career
me: yeah me: cute frog though
my brain: it is a cute frog
"But how can you justify a player character with a (non-disinherited) noble background in a dungeon-crawling fantasy game" well, the most obvious approach is a fantasy setting whose nobility practices cognatic primogeniture where, instead of "first son inherits, second son goes into the military, third son becomes a priest", it's "first son inherits, second son goes into the military, third son becomes an adventurer". From the player's perspective, it handily explains why the title comes with little material support from the family; from the family's perspective, there's an unspoken understanding that most of the spare heirs will be eaten by a dragon (or whatever), thereby simplifying the inheritance situation, and the few survivors will become great assets.
(There is, of course, the possibility that a surviving third son, having grown powerful and understandably harbouring some slight resentment, may return, kill his elder brothers with dark magic, and take over the dynasty, but in practice this almost never happens.)
... couldn't Adventuring just be the fantasy equivalent of "Father send me to the War against the French to learn command and bravery". Except it's dungeons, magic and monsters.
Unfortunately not. One of the reasons it was traditional for the second son to go into the military is because it carried a warrior's prestige without being especially dangerous in practice; any noble family of means would be able to purchase them an officer's commission that would keep them off of the front lines, and you don't actually want the second son to be in constant mortal peril, because you need a backup heir in case the eldest son dies unexpectedly. Being an adventurer – at least as depicted in most fantasy dungeon-crawler settings – carries too much real danger to play that role.
2010. A Japanese woman sits down to take photos of her shiba inu dog for her blog. Suddenly, a man leaps out of a time portal. "Sorry, I can't let you do this. I cannot tell you why." She asks: "Is it forbidden knowledge from the future?" He sighs: "No, it's just too fucking stupid to explain."
One quiet day on the farm, the Little Red Hen found some wheat seeds and decided to make bread.
"Who will help me plant these seeds?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Horse "But I'm a workhorse, and I'm too busy moving carts around."
And so the Little Red Hen planted the seeds by herself. And they grew into bountiful golden crops.
"Who will help me harvest the wheat?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Dog "But I'm a guarddog, and I'm too busy keeping away burglars and predators."
And so the Little Red Hen harvested the wheat herself and made it into flour.
"Who will help me bake the flour?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Pig "But I'm a mother of 5 newborn piglets, and I'm too busy taking care of my young."
And so the Little Red Hen baked the bread herself into twenty beautiful loaves.
"Who will help me eat the bread?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"We would." said the Farm Animals. "But we're ashamed, for we didn't do anything to make the bread."
"Nonsense!" said the Little Red Hen. "You, Horse, helped move around the stones that built my oven. You, Dog, kept me safe while I worked. And you, Pig, are raising a new generation of Farm Animals, who will too contribute to our Farm one day. You've all helped me so much by simply being you."
"Besides," the Little Red Hen added. "I couldn't possibly eat all the loaves on my own, most of them would go to waste. Come, eat with me."
And so the Little Red Hen and the Farm Animals ate the bread together. And all saw their own, and each other's, worth.
better
This healed a very old wound
I JUST LET OUT THE WORST NOISE
HOW DARE YOU USE THE SAME SOURCE AS ME TO MAKE POINTS AGAINST ME
don't give up
makes me just think of this poem by Caitlin Seida
Circle of protection against capitalism
10/10 addition
Hot take, but cis people have gender identities. They aren't the gender they identify as because of their genitalia or what their birth certificate says. They're only cis because they identify with a gender and it happens to match their government documentation. Cis men aren't men because they're "obviously" men for having a penis. They're men because they identify as men. It's the self-identification that dictates this, not any other factor, even for cis folks. And we should be framing it this way. A cis man identifies as a man and a cis woman identifies as a woman. There is no automatic or inherent gender.
You are not "born a boy/girl." Infants don't have a gender. You acquire gender when you identify as it. No such thing as "biologically a man/woman."
"I don't identify as anything, I'm a man."
It sure sounds like you identify as a man, bud.
Giving a brownie to cis folks who rb this.
Gonna admit the "this isn't a hot take it's obvious" comments from a dozen or so people are grating on my nerves, so I'm gonna address that.
Just say you've never had an actual conversation with a cis person outside of a very leftist circle lol. Obvious to you. To you, fellow trans person. I wish I got paid every time I had to hear a cis person say they don't have a gender identity or don't "identify" as anything they just "are" a man or a woman.
Sometimes you have to stop and ask yourselves what group of people a post is mainly directed at.
they call me the nuance lover because I love nuance
but only sometimes, of course. it's not always appropriate.
Conversation that Tumblr is not ready for:
I scrolled past that before realizing op was being literal and not just making some kind of weird joke
Oh please, "the penetration of the vampire's bite as metaphor for sexual penetration" is like, horny classic vampire symbolism 101 🙄 Taking this to the next level of "vampire bite as literal reproductive penetration" is a conversation Tumblr is thoroughly and uniquely prepared for and one that we will all severely regret very shortly
Oh, I’m ready to be a spectator for this conversation. I’m ready.
So, when a vampire doesn’t want to become a vaddy, they use a set of these, right?
MA'AM.
[something, something] … practicing safe sucks.
Okay, yeah, I'll reblog that
scurvy has got to have one of the biggest disease/treatment coolness gaps of all time. like yeah too much time at sea will afflict you with a curse where your body starts unraveling and old wounds come back to haunt you like vengeful ghosts. unless☝️you eat a lemon
Yeah, I’d be looking at Karlach with heart eyes too
I understand that museums have to be dark because light can destroy fragile artifacts. That said, I’m always afraid to walk around the blind corners because what if there is a skeleton
Okay yes sometimes there’s a skeleton, I understand how museums work. But I mean what if it gets me
spookiest things in museums, number 15: the skeleton that understands you on an emotional level
