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captainjonnitkessler · 4 months

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You know I used to think "tumblr's absolute refusal to actually engage with the Trolley Problem in favor of insisting that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is just a short-sighted idiot is really fucking annoying, but I guess it's not actually doing any harm".

Anyway that was before we asked tumblr at large to decide between "guy aiding a genocide but making progress elsewhere" and "guy who would actively and enthusiastically participate in a genocide and would also make everything else much, much worse for everyone elsewhere" and the response was that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and that anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is a short-sighted idiot.

#there is not a third option. it is either trump OR biden #and one of those will be much MUCH worse for palestine #i'm really really sorry that these are the options. i wish they weren't.#but WHAT third option are you trying to take here? what on earth is your proposed outcome #that will actually make things better for palestine?#because letting trump win the election is NOT going to help them #i'm sorry but you need to set aside your feelings and take the option that will lead to less harm to palestine in the long run #you talk such a big game about how people need to be willing to make sacrifices to help palestine #but you yourself aren't even willing to hold your nose and vote to stop things from getting worse?#or did you think 'sacrifice' only meant not getting mcdonalds for a few months?#us politics

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 2 months

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I remember discussing Tintin casting choices with a friend from Germany and remarked how it was odd he often has an English accent in adaptations rather than a Belgian one, and my friend just replied "that's because Tintin gives incredibly strong English boy energy (derogatory)"

Here in the UK there's a lot of weird classism tied into accents. Today accent diversity and representation in broadcasting is actively pursued but in Tintin's time there certainly was a preferred accent to have.

imagine this exchange happens between pages 28-29 in The Crab with the Golden Claws

#tintin #adventures of tintin #comic #captain haddock #archibald haddock #snowy #milou #fanart #the crab with the golden claws #i remember tintin crafting a trumpet to communicate with an elephant #and he remarks he must get the accent correct #very odd scenario but it shows he would be a stickler for that sort of thing #i also have to say accents do not indicate how smart someone is #a lot of pundits use an english accent to sound more credible #but i have to say there are a lot of fucking idiots here #me included #thank you 2011 film for validating my scottish haddock headcanon #any french speakers who have read to this point i wonder what your hcs are for his french speaking accent

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andersunmenschlich · 9 months

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Unlawful Entry

My apartment building is meant to be reasonably secure. Staff, tenants, and the US postal service have keys to the building: no one else.

Someone circumvented my building's security.

They broke in without breaking anything but the law—probably slipped in after someone with a key.

They were fervent. Fixated. They had a goal; they were on a mission. Laws meant nothing to them in the pursuit of this goal. Criminal trespass was necessary. They had to deliver a message. .

"DO YOU KNOW FROM READING OUR HOLY TEXTS THAT THERE IS A PLACE WAITING FOR YOU IN A BEAUTIFUL LAND THAT YOU CANNOT ENTER UNTIL YOU'RE DEAD?" one piece of bold text screamed.

"Our holy writings are the words of a supernatural being. They teach many incredibly important things, but the most important thing they teach is how a member of Homo sapiens can become immortal* (*live forever with the previously mentioned supernatural being)," the next bit of text said, in a smaller and less excited font.

A snippet from one of their holy books followed, in red.

"I wrote this stuff to you people (the people who already believe this stuff) so that you'll know it's true and… well… believe it. Which you already do. Anyway, you're immortal."

Unembarrassed by this, the smaller and less excited font continued, "According to our holy texts, there are some things that we humans have to do in order to know for sure that we'll be going to a beautiful land that only dead people can enter after we die (at which point we'll live forever)."

Don't be misled by the suggestion of things to be done to achieve knowledge.

Don't, as I did, begin thinking about how one could actually know that people go on living after they're dead (but in an unreachable location).

Remember that this is "according to our holy texts."

The next bit of writing screams loudly and excitedly again, an all caps instruction that the person who left it thought was worth committing a class C felony for: "ADMIT YOU ARE A CRIMINAL WHO HAS OFFENDED AGAINST A SUPERNATURAL ENTITY."

Yes, that's right: step one in getting the knowledge of your ticket to a beautiful place you can only live in after you die is… accepting as valid the idea that you have done something to upset, harm, or offend a being that, to all appearances, does not exist. Seems an odd way of getting knowledge!

After some consideration, I realized the problem.

They say that admitting you're a criminal is step one in knowing that you're going to live forever after you die, but what they mean is that obviously you already know that living forever after you die is a possibility, and so they're skipping that part—what they mean is that admitting you're a criminal is step one in making sure that you get your ticket to Wonderland.

"Everyone has failed to follow this one supernatural entity's rules," another red-text snippet said in calmer font, "and isn't good enough."

"According to our sacred writings," the unhinged rant continued, "we have to admit that we have offended against the supernatural entity whose words those writings are, and so we don't deserve to go to a beautiful place and live forever after we die."

"ACCEPT THAT YOU DESERVE TO BE TORTURED FOREVER," the next all caps bit bellowed.

"If you work, you get money. If you break this one supernatural being's law, you get death. Death is your wage: you deserve it. But the entity will freely give you the undeserved gift of immortality, via Joshua the Chosen One, our master."

"Death and eternal torture were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, with even death dying 'cause it's so bad and deathy."

"Our sacred texts tell us that, because we broke this supernatural entity's law, not only do we not deserve to live in a beautiful place forever after we die, we deserve to die in a horrible place forever after we die! Eternal punishment! Unending, torturous death!"

…

I don't really have a lot to add here. We've gone right past unsubstantiated claims about immortality to insults and threats.

Of course the felon who left this piece of paper inside a locked dwelling thinks they're just stating a hard truth by telling me (and everyone else who reads the paper) that we're so horribly criminal we deserve to be tortured forever… but still.

"CONFESS THAT THE CHOSEN ONE DIED A HORRIBLE DEATH TO PAY FOR YOUR CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR AND THEN CAME BACK TO LIFE THREE DAYS LATER."

It seems to me that if one temporary death is enough to make up for whatever supernatural laws everyone everywhere has supposedly broken, billions of eternal punishments are a bit much. I mean, if I and a group of friends break someone's fancy windows and it turns out $20 is enough to cover everything, why should each of us have to pay $200,000,000,000?

And if it's some worse offense—say we each chopped off one of his fingers or something—how could someone else being punished possibly make up for what we did?

What are we supposed to learn from that? "Do whatever you want and don't worry about it because there won't be any unpleasant consequences for you" seems the only possible conclusion to me. You don't even have to worry about the whipping boy; he's fine!

"This is how the supernatural entity shows us how much he loves us: the Chosen One died in our place even though we were still filthy criminals who didn't deserve it."

This snippet of red text seems to imply that once somebody pays for the broken window, you're not a window-breaker anymore.

Handy, that.

It also suggests that love is shown by killing somebody else, instead of the person you ought to kill. "You broke my rules, so you deserve death. I love you, though, so I'll kill this guy over here instead, and that'll make up for your rule-breaking."

Interesting definition of love.

"Our sacred texts say that Joshua came to earth"—from outer space? from another dimension? from the darkness of nonexistence the way we all do?—"and consented to be tortured to death to pay for our supernatural offenses! Then he stopped being dead and became alive again, to prove that his horrible death really was a satisfactory alternative to our eternal torments."

This is rather like being told that, because I've broken a rich man's window, I owe him two hundred billion dollars—but some other guy handed the rich man $20 and then took the $20 back, so the price is paid.

And, in fact, the guy taking the twenty back is what proves that he had the right to pay my fine in the first place.

"COMMIT YOURSELF TO FOLLOWING THE MASTER JOSHUA AND YOU WILL BE SAVED FROM THE TERRIFYING FATE YOU DESERVE," shrieks the final all caps sentence.

"If you admit out loud that Joshua is your master, and genuinely believe that a supernatural entity brought him back to life after he died, you won't be tortured for ever and ever after you die."

"Our sacred texts say that in order to be saved from the unimaginably horrific fate worse than death we deserve, we have to sit down and deliberately choose to let the Chosen One pay for us," the threatening gibberish continues.

"If you would like to accept the Chosen One's offer now," a bold, but small text paragraph informs the reader, "then do your best to convey this following message (or something like it) to an entity that does not appear to be present anywhere in reality—and make sure you really mean it!"

The message is given in italics, which is pretty much the only way of making an individual piece of text stand out from the rest at this point on the heavily marked paper.

"Cherished Joshua, I admit that I have done something/s that broke your rules. I understand that I deserve to be tortured forever and ever, but I also know that you died a painful death to make up for my crime/s (and then undied). Please make it so that your temporary death is accepted in lieu of my eternal torture, so that I can live forever in a wonderful place after I die. I absolutely believe that you are going to do this for me. Truth!" .

…I know, I've put too much thought into this.

A piece of paper delivered by a literal criminal to the inside of my locked residence without my knowledge or consent, covered in incoherent claims, threats, and promises—in a better world, I'd throw the thing out and call the cops to check the security cameras.

Unfortunately, I don't live in a better world. I live in a world where ranting cultists like this one are considered normal people.

Actually they get more of a pass than normal folks.

Criminal trespass is a crime for everyone else. Entering a locked building without permission would get most people jail time; but when you're the right kind of cultist, you're above the law.

Scary, isn't it?

#ex christian #criminal trespassing #in order to propagate cult nonsense #''there's a wonderful place waiting for you to live in it forever after you die #''and here's how you get there:#''admit that you're a disgusting criminal who deserves to be tortured for ever and ever #''admit that a special person got horribly hurt so you could be saved from the fate you deserve #''beg that special person to save you and believe that they'll do it #''profit! (for the folks at the top.)''#long post #very long post #this is sort of my specialty isn't it #Isaiah loves writing long posts #Christian beliefs described bluntly #stripping bare the ideas and concepts they like to try and hide behind specialized vocabulary

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myrkulitescourge · 6 months

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the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.

#i need to lay down #just drop this in there right at the beginning why not!#that’s INTENSE. and completely sincere considering his demeanor at the party. god #he’s so… nice. in the romanced epilogue. i expected him to be a little smug and jokey #if tav told him the others weren’t doing so hot without the two of them around #but he takes it so genuinely and with visible disappointment?? literally shocked me #i thought he would say oh of course their lives have taken a turn without our impressive leadership lol!#and then redirect into something a little less flippant #but man. he just gets sad. astarion six months into a loving relationship is like a stray cat that instantly gets cuddly when you adopt it #dude went cotton candy marshmallow saccharine sweet in a HEARTBEAT #bless the others with your presence he says. i’ll always be here he says. we have forever after all he says.#head in my hands. how could they do this to me #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 spoilers #baldur’s gate 3 spoilers #bg3

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hailsatanacab · 6 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batpham #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #look. this has been in my mind for so long guys so long - and idk if its canon that the batfam have codes for time travel situations or what #but i feel like ive seen it before and if its not canon it should be #so here - how i think that would be funny to go down #i have so many thoughts about TUE and its place in a dpxdc crossover like holy shit there's so many ways it can go!!#i have another wip in the works thats kinda similar to this but with superman and i cannot wait to work on it again #there are so many ways i wanted this to go but i just couldnt get there - i wanted to keep it on the shorter side but like #perhaps ill have to expand #i just love the idea that like. theres a stranger at your table who knows you and knows you well. who knows the secret that youd die to keep #there's a stranger at your table and he says something and you know he's family. you know you're strangers but now...#now you have to be something more #oh man theres so many juicy ways it can go and I KNOW I DID NONE OF THEM #i want to write this whole plot again and make it angstier #(me with everything)#anyway! sorry love you all hope you enjoy it!!

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unpretty · 4 months

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earlier today andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping to show me another image of the sunglasses and bask in my horror

but the pictures were on tumblr and they accidentally swiped the wrong direction in the image viewer

so from my perspective what happened was that andrew was like, "hey, check this out" and turned their phone around to show me an image of a pair of dreamworks eyebrow sunglasses before swiping dramatically to reveal an unrelated image of stuart little, watching me expectantly for a reaction that never came

#original #it was not until they turned their phone around with a #WHAT THE FUCK HOW DID YOU GET HERE #that we realized what happened #and it became the funniest shit ever to me and me only #even now writing this i made myself laugh again #and then my partner who is in bed with me yelled #STOP THINKING ABOUT STUART LITTLE. IT'S NOT RELEVANT.#and that made me laugh harder

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