«so as we now realize americans are just like that shitty friend that you can tell anything about your current life situation and they will interrupt you saying that they feel even worse and also their bathroom is leaking»
YES. YES. SAME.
Why yes, I do keep refreshing the carmen sandiego and kipo tags in hopes of trailers, why do you ask?
wow how about that
random anime packs
please like/reblog if you save or use!!
art credits: @hanavbara
PROTECT RUSSIAN TRANS LIVES!
I couldn't find any posts about it here so I've decided to write one myself and I just hope that someone sees it (and understands).
Recently we had this «referendum» about new changes in our constitution. There are many reasons why they are horrible (Putin now got the right to be on his post endlessly, for example), but I want to draw your attention at one specific provision that defines marriage as «a union between a man and a woman». On July the 14th, two weeks after these changes were admitted by people (read as «government faked our votes as usual») and a week after Putin told us that there's no discrimination in Russia, seven senators submitted a draft bill to amend our Family Code.
“The bill ends the practice of marriage between persons of the same sex, including those who changed genders”
senator Yelena Mizulina said.
So they're going to legally ban same-sex marriages and adoptions, including by transgender people. MOREOVER:
our birth certificates will have «assigned gender at birth» field
legal gender change will become forbidden, since it'll be impossible to change your birth certificate (and probably an ID card too)
trans people will be forced to change their replaced birth certificates (and ID cards) back to their birth gender if they've changed them before
“The bill must be adopted due to changes in public life, including the public demand to preserve traditional family values and strengthen and protect family institutions”
Great. You're trying to protect families by ruining other families and people's lives. You say that you care about children — but, in fact, you hurt many kids by taking them away from loving parents. And still, you're pretending that everything is going well while your people are suffering.
More sources:
an analysis by lawyers -
a thread by @VioletOlya (twitter) -
spread information. tweet about this with the #ProtectRussianTransLives hashtag.
a thread by @liveshowsdnp (twitter) -
Ways to help:
you can also sign this petition. although change.org doesn't really work here, but still, it's the publicity that might help.
if you can, please donate to russian LGBT fund
you can also help by signing a complaint to the State Duma but the whole site is in russian so I'll probably post an instruction later. but here's the link → https://priemnaya.duma.gov.ru/ru/message/ and an example that you can use made by @VioletOlya on twitter →
replace <ВАШЕ ИМЯ ЗДЕСЬ> with your name.
i used a lot of information by @tstar_eva (twitter). there's a sample of the letter she made that you can send to someone with large audience if you have their contacts -
DO NOT IGNORE THIS, PLEASE. let's help each other!
And remember:
i'm like a stranger in my own family
but i don't fear them and i don't lie to myself.
my heart is chipped and my eyes are deadly sad.
i will never go back.
— IC3PEAK's «Марш»
where's julia ya'll......
Vicious Vinyl 🦇
Look look everyone, it’s “Graham Krackel” 😂
DESK SET (1957) THE SPENCER TRACY LEGACY: A TRIBUTE BY KATHARINE HEPBURN (1986)
Dear Spence—who ever thought that I’d be writing you a letter. You died on the 10th of June in 1967. My golly, Spence, that’s fifteen, no that’s eighteen years ago. That’s a long time. Are you happy finally? Is it a nice long rest you’re having? Making up for all your tossing and turning in life. You know, I never believed you when you said that you just couldn’t get to sleep. I thought, Oh—come on—you sleep—if you didn’t sleep you’d be dead. You’d be so worn out. Then remember that night when—oh, I don’t know, you felt so disturbed. And I said, Well, go on in—go to bed. And I’ll lie on the floor and talk you to sleep. I’ll just talk and talk and you’ll be so bored, you’re bound to drift off. Well, I went in and got an old pillow and Lobo the dog. I lay there watching you and stroking Old Dog. I was talking about you and the movie we’d just finished—Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner—and my studio and your new tweed coat and the garden and all the nice sleep-making topics and cooking and dull gossip, but you never stopped tossing—to the right, to the left—shove the pillows—pull the covers—on and on and on. Finally—really finally—not just then—you quieted down. I waited a while—and then I crept out. You told me the truth, didn’t you, Spence? You really could not sleep. And I used to wonder then—why? Why, Spence? I still wonder. You took the pills. They were quite strong. I suppose you have to say that otherwise you would never have slept at all. Living wasn’t easy for you, was it? What did you like to do? You loved sailing, especially in stormy weather. You loved polo. But then Will Rogers was killed in that airplane accident. And the fun went out of it for you, didn’t it? You never played polo again—never again. Tennis, golf, swimming, no, not really. You’d bat a few balls. Fair you were. I don’t think that you ever swang a golf club. Is “swang” a word? Swimming? Well, you didn’t like cold water. And walking? No, that didn’t suit you. That was one of those things where you could think at the same time—of this, of that, of what, Spence? What was it? Was it some specific life thing like Johnny being deaf, or being a Catholic and you felt a bad Catholic? No comfort, no comfort. I remember Father Ciklic telling you that you concentrated on all the bad and none of the good which your religion offered. It must have been something very fundamental, very ever-present. And the incredible fact. There you were—really the greatest movie actor. I say this because I believe it and I have heard many people of standing in our business say it. From Olivier to Lee Strasberg to David Lean. You name it. You could do it. And you could do it with that glorious simplicity, that directness: you could just do it. You couldn’t enter your own life, but you could be someone else. You were a killer, a priest, a fisherman, a sportswriter, a judge, a newspaperman. You were it in a moment. You hardly had to study. You learned the lines in no time. What a relief! You could be someone else for a while. You weren’t you—you were safe. You loved to laugh, didn’t you? You never missed those individual comics: Jimmy Durante, Phil Silvers, Fanny Brice, Frank McHugh, Mickey Rooney, Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, Smith and Dale, and your favorite, Bert Williams. Funny stories: you could tell them—and brilliantly. You could laugh at yourself. You enjoyed very, very much the friendship and admiration of people like the Kanins, Frank Sinatra, Bogie and Betty, George Cukor, Vic Fleming, Stanley Kramer, the Kennedys, Harry Truman, Lew Douglas. You were fun with them, you had fun with them, you felt safe with them. But then back to life’s trials. Oh hell, take a drink—no-yes-maybe. Then stop taking the drink. You were great at that, Spence. You could just stop. How I respected you for that. Very unusual. Well, you said on this subject: never safe until you’re seven feet underground. But why the escape hatch? Why was it always opened—to get away from the remarkable you? What was it, Spence? What was it? I meant to ask you. Did you know what it was? What did you say? I can’t hear you…