This could be a little more sonic...

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vulpesinc:

welcome to fringe

vulpesinc:

welcome to fringe

(Source: bloatfly)

ajmahn:

A solo a cappella lullaby holds a world of possible meanings. When I read Words of Radiance, this is how it sounded in my head, a tune that can be comforting or creepy, dark or light depending on context, echoing the theme of moral ambiguity in the book itself. Listen for symmetry in the harmonies.

Lyrics by author Brandon Sanderson, used under the condition that this song be shared non-commercially and with attribution. Feel free to re-share under the same conditions. I’d love to hear your own interpretation!

Image is from one of Shallan’s academic drawings included in the book; IRL it’s by Ben McSweeney.

SHINING MISTS PART 1

totallysic:

Okay I’ll be honest, the Cosmere fandom provides for almost all of my needs. However, the Cosmere fandom is made up of classy folks who understand grammar, so it looks like if I want bad fanfiction I’ll have to write my own. Which I have. Read it below.

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mariannewiththesteadyhands:

“‘I can handle it,’ Vin said. ‘Someone needs to watch over you.’
'Yes,' Elend said, 'but who watches over you?'
Kelsier.”

mariannewiththesteadyhands:

“‘I can handle it,’ Vin said. ‘Someone needs to watch over you.’

'Yes,' Elend said, 'but who watches over you?'

Kelsier.”

emilyenrose:

fozmeadows:

scienceofsarcasm:

Evening Post: August 12, 1899.
"She immediately alighted, caught hold of the astonished youth, and gave him a sound thrashing, using her fists in a scientific fashion…”

I would love to know what this means.

I think that might be code for “punched him in the balls with devastating accuracy”.

I think the sport of boxing was (is?) often referred to as a science! In the older sense of ‘something that requires expert knowledge’. So if she thrashed him in scientific fashion, it implies that she had some expert knowledge of how to punch people, possibly learned from someone with some formal training!

  • *Bridge 4 rescuing the Kholin army*
  • Kaladin: Well LOOK at this. Appears we got here just in the nick of time. What does that make us?
  • Moash: Big damn heroes, sir.
  • Kaladin: Ain’t we just.

hoidshipsalltheships:

kogiopsis:

dragoninatrenchcoat:

If you’re lashed to the wall and you pick up something from the ground, which way do you feel its weight in your hand?

If you take off a piece of clothing and drop it, which way does it fall?

Quick!  Kaladin!  Striptease for science!

#does this count as kaladin/sigzil?

Yes it does

fallenwithstyle:

So uh … Stormlight Archive HIMYM AU with Dalinar giving Adolin and Renarin an elaborate and prolonged account of events leading up to how he met their mother to cover for the fact that he can’t actually remember her name and is totally in love with their Aunt Navani.

Jul 9
erai-elsecaller:

This is so good! Hahaha hilarious part from WoR

Original artist looks to be Rachel J Corey (tumblr name kirrys)

erai-elsecaller:

This is so good! Hahaha hilarious part from WoR

Original artist looks to be Rachel J Corey (tumblr name kirrys)

Jul 9

originsofsammitry:

New from J.K. Rowling: Dumbledore’s Army Reunites At Quidditch World Cup Final

This is too perfect

(Source: princessmowgli)

Jul 1

(Source: jackwillett)

Recently, my husband and I burned through S1 of Orphan Black, which, as promised by virtually the entire internet, was awesome. But in all the praise I’d seen for it, a line from one review in particular stuck in my mind. The reviewer noted that, although the protagonist, Sarah, is an unlikeable character, her grifter skills make her perfectly suited to unravelling the mystery in which she finds herself. And as this was a positive review, I kept that quote in mind when we started watching, sort of by way of prewarning myself: you maybe won’t like Sarah, but that’s OK.

But here’s the thing: I fucking loved Sarah. I mean, I get what the reviewer was trying to say, in that she’s not always a sympathetic character, but that’s not the same as her actually being unlikeable. And the more I watched, the more I found myself thinking: why is this quality, the idea of likeability, considered so important for women, but so optional for men – not just in real life, but in narrative? Because when it comes to guys, we have whole fandoms bending over backwards to write soulful meta humanising male characters whose actions, regardless of their motives, are far less complex than monstrous. We take male villains and redeem them a hundred, a thousand times over – men who are murderers, stalkers, abusers, kinslayers, traitors, attempted or successful rapists; men with personal histories so bloody and tortured, it’s like looking at a battlefield. In doing this, we exhibit enormous compassion for and understanding of the nuances of human behaviour – sympathy for circumstance, for context, for motive and character and passion and rage, the heartache and, to steal a phrase, the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to; and as such, regardless of how I might feel about the practice as applied in specific instances, in general, it’s a praiseworthy endeavour. It helps us to see human beings, not as wholly black and white, but as flawed and complicated creatures, and we need to do that, because it’s what we are.

But when it comes to women, a single selfish or not-nice act – a stolen kiss, a lie, a brushoff – is somehow enough to see them condemned as whores and bitches forever. We readily excuse our favourite male characters of murder, but if a woman politely turns down a date with someone she has no interest in, she’s a timewasting user bimbo and god, what does he even see in her? Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen some great online meta about, for instance, the soulfulness and moral ambiguity of Black Widow, but I’ve also seen a metric fucktonne more about what that particular jaw-spasm means in that one GIF of Cumberbatch/Ackles/Hiddleston/Smith alone, and that’s before you get into the pages-long pieces about why Rumplestiltskin or Hook or Spike or Bucky Barnes or whoever is really just a tortured woobie who needs a hug. Hell, I’m guilty of writing some of that stuff myself, because see above: plus, it’s meaty and fun and exactly the kind of analysis I like to write.

And yet, we tend overwhelmingly not to write it about ladies. It’s not just our cultural obsession with pushing increasingly specific variants of the Madonna/Whore complex onto women, such that audiences are disinclined to extend to female characters the same moral/emotional licenses they extend to men; it’s also a failure to create narratives where the women aren’t just flawed, but where the audience is still encouraged to like them when they are.

Returning to Orphan Black, for instance, if Sarah were male, he’d be unequivocally viewed as either a complex, sympathetic antihero or a loving battler with a heart of gold. I mean, the ex-con trying to go straight and get his daughter back while still battling the illegalities of his old life and punching bad guys? Let me introduce you to Swordfish, Death Race, and about a millionty other stories where a father’s separation from a beloved child, whether as a consequence of his actual criminal actions, shiftless neglect, sheer bad luck or a combination of all three, is never couched as a reason why he might not be a fit parent. We tend to accept, both culturally and narratively, that men who abandon their children aren’t automatically bad dads; they just have other, important things to be doing first, like coming to terms with parenthood, saving the world, escaping from prison or otherwise getting their shit together. But Sarah, who left her child in the care of someone she trusted absolutely, has to jump through hoops to prove her maternal readiness on returning; has to answer for her absence over and over again. And on one level, that’s fine; that’s as it should be, because Sarah’s life is dangerous. And yet, her situation stands in glaring contrast to every returning father who’s never been asked to do half so much, because women aren’t meant to struggle with motherhood, to have to try to succeed: we’re either maternal angels or selfish absentees, and the idea that we might sometimes be both or neither isn’t one you often see depicted with such nuance.

-

Gender, Orphan Black & The Meta Of Meta

read this, read it right now it’s absolutely genius.

(via sarahcosima)

(Source: knowlesian)

valeria2067:

lefeministfatale:

Raise your hand if you have been personally victimized by George R.R. Martin.

image

image

johannesviii:

Mind your own business, Dalek.
I can’t be the first one to make this joke, can I? That episode happened almost ten years ago.

johannesviii:

Mind your own business, Dalek.

I can’t be the first one to make this joke, can I? That episode happened almost ten years ago.

It saddens me to see girls proudly declaring they’re not like other girls – especially when it’s 41,000 girls saying it in a chorus, never recognizing the contradiction. It’s taking a form of contempt for women – even a hatred for women – and internalizing it by saying, Yes, those girls are awful, but I’m special, I’m not like that, instead of stepping back and saying, This is a lie.

The real meaning of “I’m not like the other girls” is, I think, “I’m not the media’s image of what girls should be.” Well, very, very few of us are. Pop culture wants to tell us that we’re all shallow, backstabbing, appearance-obsessed shopaholics without a thought in our heads beyond cute boys and cuter handbags. It’s a lie – a flat-out lie – and we need to recognize it and say so instead of accepting that judgment as true for other girls, but not for you.

-

“I’m not like the other girls”, Claudia Gray

Excellent article. I always end up thinking this when I see reblogs like that. Female competition is a horrible, poisonous thing (that I’ve only recently gotten over engaging in, and I am much happier for it).

(via birdwithapeopleface)