Your idols all are my rivals.
Last update
2023-02-07 04:01:04

    Wait kryptonian fangies…. Does that mean Clark also has fangies? And follow up because if so I feel he’d be more shy about them most of the time, does he do a kinda half smile to not flash them around to everyone?

    Clark definitely has fangies. He's been very insecure about them for a long time so, yes, he tends to half smile to hide them. But with time, especially around the Justice League, he began to feel more confident and the other heroes can definitely see his kryptonian fangs when he laughs now.

    Bruce definitely wishes he could have fangs too. Who can blame him? It fits his aesthetic.


    The way that "pro-democracy protests" is taken as a self-evident and serious category by the fucking globe emoji NED-pilled CIA's strongest Twitter user types is so fucking laughable it makes me want to shit


    Define "pro-democracy" without making reference to a US-model liberal "democracy" that is inherently aligned with the interests of neoliberalism and global capitalism. Quickly.


    You'll note of course when people in Japan or the ROK protest to get the US military and US-backed right-wing juntas out of their countries and governments it's not called a "pro-democracy protest", nor are the ongoing protests in Peru against the unelected president, or Palestinians' daily resistance in the face of Zionist occupation, or fuck even the hundreds of labor/anti-monarchist/pro-independence protests that have broken out across Terf Island in the last year or so. It's only when you're protesting against a government the United States curiously has an issue with that you are given the the benighted little tautology of being "pro-democracy".

    probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

    we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

    at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

    the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

    the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

    what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

    here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

    i remember in 6th grade public school one of my friends in the class used the word “bungalow” as often as possible and every time he needed to say “house” or “home” he swapped it for “bungalow” and me and the rest of the class thought it was so fucking funny.

    so everyone in the class started using it too like saying “I brought my lunch from the bungalow today” or whatever and the teachers HATED IT.

    it started getting out of hand when we were learning about the presidents and we often needed to say “the White House” so of course we would say “the White Bungalow” and the teacher was so furious and then there was a ban on the word and if anyone said it they were sent to the office and I remember the kid who started all the bullshit one time got in trouble for something petty like sharing his homework and the teacher said that she was going to call home to him mom and he just stood up and cried out “No, ms_____! Please don’t call home!”

    and there was this huge silence because he just raised his voice at the teacher

    and then a huge smile spread across his face and he said

    “call bungalow instead.”

    and I swear the whole class rioted it was amazing


    'It's Genetic' by Kyle Baker


    The secret origin of this feature:

    I was the assistant editor of MARVEL AGE MAGAZINE, and Jim Salicrup told me one day that we’d be adding a new section to the book, called “The Mutant Report,” mocked up to look kinda like a newspaper and covering all things X-Men. This was clearly a very good idea, since it’d be a good way to promote X-stuff, and readers would be interested. But I wasn’t very interested in the X-books at the time, so to be funny, I said, “The only way I’m going to do that is if we have a single-panel cartoon in it called ‘It’s Genetic,’ and Kyle Baker does it.” Kyle had recently been in and showed some of his COWBOY WALLY SHOW stuff, which was hysterical. “Okay,” said Jim. “Go ask him.” Kyle was still in the Bullpen, so I asked him if he’d do it and he said, “Um, sure.”

    And that’s the secret origin of “It’s Genetic” by Kyle Baker.

    [I came up with one or two of the gags, too, but I can’t remember which ones any more. Not the really good ones.]


    fun fact about this painting, the subject is a disabled woman named Anna Christina Olson who could not walk with her legs. she liked to get around the Olson family property by crawling, and did so quite a lot - it was her preferred mode of travel actually, since she hated using a chair. She is not helpless in this painting, and the field was part of her home - a place she would go regularly, not an insurmountable obstacle. the mortifying ordeal of being known is part and parcel of the comfort of love and that's not at all something to fear or revile. that's part of your home.


    [id: The painting “Christina’s World” with text edited over it. In the foreground, Christina is labeled “me,” and in the background the farmhouse is labeled “the comfort of love.” the field in between Christina and the house is labeled “the mortifying ordeal of being known.” end id]

    thank you so much for this context. i remember being told as a kid that the “correct interpretation” of this painting was that Christina was isolated and alone because of her disability. that she was locked in her own world and couldn’t reach the house where other people were. as a disabled kid, i remember having some Feelings about that.

    but that’s not the whole story? she isn’t stuck there? she CHOSE to move around in the fields that way, in a way that worked for her. and she knows she can go back to the house when she’s ready, on her own terms, using her body the way she chooses. fuck, that really hits different.

    we can crawl in the fields and still go home afterwards.


    Honestly, do you want to know my hot take on Taylor Swift? Like, for real? You want me to weigh in on this discourse? I’ll do it. Listen up, okay, because this is about to get real. Every time I hear Taylor Swift, every single solitary time I hear her name, I think, “What a great name for a speedster.”


    Imagine Taylor Swift running as fast as she can, trying to break the sound barrier so that she can take herself back in time to 2009 and stop Kanye West from interrupting her VMA speech, but just as she’s about to put a vibrating hand through his chest, a THIRD Taylor Swift explodes through a swirling portal and tackles her, preventing the impending flashpoint paradox.


    obama having MF Doom on his list of favourite songs in 2022 after deporting him in 2010, where he effectively died in exile... that mans vileness knows no bounds huh