I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
"It always seems impossible until its done."
, a South African politician who served as President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999, the first ever to be elected in a fully representative democratic election. Before being elected President, Mandela was a militant anti-apartheid activist, and the leader and co-founder of Umkhonto we Sizwe, the armed wing of the African National Congress (ANC). In 1962 he was arrested and convicted of sabotage and other charges, and sentenced to life imprisonment. Mandela went on to serve 27 years in prison, spending many of these years on Robben Island. Following his release from prison on 11 February 1990, Mandela led his party in the negotiations that led to the establishment of democracy in 1994. As President, he frequently gave priority to reconciliation, while introducing policies aimed at combating poverty and inequality in South Africa.
R.I.P Nelson Mandela (July 18, 1918 - December 5, 2013)
then the little consulting detective tells the army doctor stories about his home planet Asteroid 221B and his true love the skull, his friend Lestrade the silver fox, and that goddamn snake Moriarty
and now i’m depressed
I just read the most fucking amazing fic ever I swear to fucking god like
okay I’m on Tumblr mobile so I can’t put this under a read more or put a proper link into this so I’ll edit later but fuck okay so it’s called “Fighting the Hurricane” by myrmidryad and it’s a Pacific rim!Les Amis-centric AU which fed all my feels and it starts when Trespasser attacks San Francisco and it just goes through the lives of the Les Amis plus Valjean and Javert in the ‘verse and
fuck man the writing is amazing and ngl I jumped at the chance to read this fic because it’s a fucking Pacific Rim AU for Les Mis but when I read through all 46K+ of it in thirtyy fucking minutes I was so happy you won’t believe
it’s pretty T well I mean aside from the general death and destruction of Pacific Rim ther’s no smut which I guess was a good touch because it might not have fit into the story of humanity fighting monsters
so yeah as you can tell I’m riding on a fic high right now and i’m really fucking over the moon and damn happy so yeah gO READ THE THING I’LL LINK LATER
“You can have this though. It’s not a phone number but—“ he steps away and Enjolras places his hand on his own head, holding the cap in place. “More like a token.” (x)
I wanted to redraw this since idek when coz it will forever be one of my fav scenes in all of ryssa’s lovely fics.
enjolras is sad cos he didn’t get a kiss, ramona says
we were all sad cos enjolras didn’t get a kiss
I sent a DM to the Mojo Facebook official page asking them whether they’re thinking about the DVD release or not (I also linked them the petition we signed) and they said they’re going to ask the producers :/
aaaAAAAAAHHHHHH LES AMIS PACIFIC RIM AU AHHHHHHHHHHH
Irishman Mark Boyle tried to live life with no income, no bank balance and no spending. Here’s how he finds it:
"If someone told me seven years ago, in my final year of a business and economics degree, that I’d now be living without money, I’d have probably choked on my microwaved ready meal. The plan back then was to get a ‘good’ job, make as much money as possible, and buy the stuff that would show society I was successful.
For a while I did it – I had a fantastic job managing a big organic food company; had myself a yacht on the harbour. If it hadn’t been for the chance purchase of a video called Gandhi, I’d still be doing it today. Instead, for the last fifteen months, I haven’t spent or received a single penny. Zilch.
The change in life path came one evening on the yacht whilst philosophising with a friend over a glass of merlot. Whilst I had been significantly influenced by the Mahatma’s quote “be the change you want to see in the world”, I had no idea what that change was up until then. We began talking about all major issues in the world – environmental destruction, resource wars, factory farms, sweatshop labour – and wondering which of these we would be best devoting our time to. Not that we felt we could make any difference, being two small drops in a highly polluted ocean.
But that evening I had a realisation. These issues weren’t as unrelated as I had previously thought – they had a common root cause. I believe the fact that we no longer see the direct repercussions our purchases have on the people, environment and animals they affect is the factor that unites these problems.
The degrees of separation between the consumer and the consumed have increased so much that it now means we’re completely unaware of the levels of destruction and suffering embodied in the ‘stuff’ we buy.
Very few people actually want to cause suffering to others; most just don’t have any idea that they directly are. The tool that has enabled this separation is money, especially in its globalised format.
Take this for an example: if we grew our own food, we wouldn’t waste a third of it as we do today.
If we made our own tables and chairs, we wouldn’t throw them out the moment we changed the interior décor.
If we had to clean our own drinking water, we probably wouldn’t shit in it.
So to be the change I wanted to see in the world, it unfortunately meant I was going to have to give up money, which I decided to do for a year initially. So I made a list of the basics I’d need to survive. I adore food, so it was at the top. There are four legs to the food-for-free table: foraging wild food, growing your own, bartering and using waste grub, of which there far too much.
On my first day I fed 150 people a three course meal with waste and foraged food. Most of the year I ate my own crops though and waste only made up about five per cent my diet. I cooked outside – rain or shine – on a rocket stove.
Next up was shelter. So I got myself a caravan from Freecycle, parked it on an organic farm I was volunteering with, and kitted it out to be off the electricity grid. I’d use wood I either coppiced or scavenged to heat my humble abode in a wood burner made from an old gas bottle, and I had a compost loo to make ‘humanure’ for my veggies.
I bathed in a river, and for toothpaste I used washed up cuttlefish bone with wild fennel seeds, an oddity for a vegan. For loo roll I’d relieve the local newsagents of its papers (I once wiped my arse with a story about myself); it wasn’t double quilted but it quickly became normal. To get around I had a bike and trailer, and the 55 km commute to the city doubled up as my gym subscription. For lighting I’d use beeswax candles.
Many people label me an anti-capitalist. Whilst I do believe capitalism is fundamentally flawed, requiring infinite growth on a finite planet, I am not anti anything. I am pro-nature, pro-community and pro-happiness. And that’s the thing I don’t get – if all this consumerism and environmental destruction brought happiness, it would make some sense. But all the key indicators of unhappiness – depression, crime, mental illness, obesity, suicide and so on are on the increase. More money it seems, does not equate to more happiness.
Ironically, I have found this year to be the happiest of my life. I’ve more friends in my community than ever, I haven’t been ill since I began, and I’ve never been fitter. I’ve found that friendship, not money, is real security. That most western poverty is spiritual. And that independence is really interdependence.
Could we all live like this tomorrow? No. It would be a catastrophe, we are too addicted to both it and cheap energy, and have managed to build an entire global infrastructure around the abundance of both. But if we devolved decision making and re-localised down to communities of no larger than 150 people, then why not? For over 90 per cent of our time on this planet, a period when we lived much more ecologically, we lived without money. Now we are the only species to use it, probably because we are the species most out of touch with nature.
People now often ask me what is missing compared to my old world of lucre and business. Stress. Traffic-jams. Bank statements. Utility bills. Oh yeah, and the odd pint of organic ale with my mates down the local.”
this man is an inspiration.
we are waking up
i made a thing!!!!! 17 things really…. modern au pixels…… (not like i had more important things to do right)
i made these for my pixel family page uwu dimly animated them for me later but these are the static versions, zoomed in 200%„ please click them to see them sharp bc tumblr ruins things
i’m rly pleased w how they came out!! i hadn’t pixelled in a while…
Before you decide to have feelings for someone, I suggest you:
- Don’t do that
- Drink a glass of water
- Don’t be an idiot
- Stop feeling things
- Become cynical
- Transcend your corporeal form
- Ascend from this planet
- Become an otherworldly being
- Thank me
1. HORMONES MAKE TEAR PRODUCTION HARDER FOR MEN, EASIER FOR WOMEN.
Think men don’t cry as often because they’re “strong” or lack emotion? Well, you can’t cry if you don’t have the tears to do it. Before puberty, girls and boys cry in equal amounts, and for pretty much the exact same reasons. When puberty hits and we get our hormones on (testosterone for the fellas and prolactin for ladies), our ability to PRODUCE tears changes. Testosterone may inhibit tear production in men, while prolactin actually makes crying easier (and encourages it) for women. Though the experience of feeling emotion may be exactly the same between the sexes, men’s bodies are simply less likely to produce tears as a response (while women’s bodies may produce them automatically, especially in response to stress). This hormonal difference also means that in situations where men & women BEGIN to cry, men may be able to shut down the reflex more easily, whereas women may have a much harder time holding them back. Women with especially high prolactin levels (preggers, post-preggers, hormonally imbalance like me, etc) may find they can cry almost indefinitely when emotions run high. I call it “leaking”, lol. In general, women are QUEENS of the “good, long cry”. Women may produce more tears than normal when depressed/anxious because of higher levels of tear producing stress hormone.
For men trying to understand a female cry response, it’s kind of like a boner for your eyeballs: sometimes it happens for no reason and you can’t shut it off right away EVEN when you desperately wanna. That’s not to say women are emotionally irrational or somehow unable to function when crying: we just have a physical response to emotion that makes us more likely to express it with tears. Tears (or lack of tears) are also NOT an indicator of depth of feeling or lack of emotion: a man can be devastated and simply be unable to produce tears (or will produce just a few). A woman can be mildly upset or stressed and cry whole heartedly."
Huh. That explains some things.
Reblogging to add more sources: Is it true that women’s tears contain an enzyme that can be released only by crying, meaning they are quicker to cry under emotional stress?
Tears of Men and Women Are Different; Why It Can Be Hard to Avoid Choking Up
Do women cry more than men? (via maichan808)
Speaking as a transman who has started testosterone, this is absolutely true. I would start crying much more easily pre-t and now it’s damnably hard to start, especially in situations where I just want a good cry like I used to.
I’m sorry, I just can’t get over the phrase “boners for your eyeballs.”
Well fucking shit, no wonder I can’t cry anymore. I hate not being able to, it was so useful and cathartic.
Well, that explains a bit, lord knows I’ve felt urges to cry but it just never happened. I assumed I was broken or unaffected or something.
I was not not aware of that.
As someone who cries really easily and who has been dismissed as “irrational” and generally unable to think clearly or know what I’m talking about while I’m crying, this is important.
Personally, I’ve always considered that shaming anyone for crying is a ridiculously stupid thing to do. This pretty much tells me I was right to do so. Crying should be considered the same way laughing is; as a non-verbal way of communicating. And sometimes, we don’t know what we want to communicate, or if we want to communicate anything at all, which would, to me at least, explain the eyeball-boner-happenstances.(via macpye)
I think that one might have been too soon…
That was just…uncalled for.
I’m 98% convinced this twitter is run by Misha Collins.