I wonder why.
responding to the above meme…
Hmm, I dunno ~ there’s the post-Snyder, ruined Batman who wields machine guns and murders his way through a group of henchmen with nary a qualm. He’s not too clever but is BUFF and A BILLIONAIRE. Er… and… er… that’s it?
Then there’s the guy I grew up reading about, the greatest detective alive as written about by Detective Comics. The hero who refused to kill anyone because he was so traumatised by seeing his parents murdered in front of his eyes. An intellectual who played the fool and used all his power and wealth to fight crime for no reward or recognition. Who realised that he had to actually *take care* of his greatest nemesis because that person was broken and not wholly responsible for his actions, as vile as they were.
tl;dr – Batman wasn’t always a dickhead, blame Snyder.
You could say that in terms of the reality of Brexit, the vast majority of people who voted for it have:
been sold a pup.
In the days following the Brexit vote, I heard many stories from non-white friends about an increased level of racist attacks. They were harangued at bus stops, in shops, just walking through town by people demanding to know why they were “still here” when the Brexit vote was to “take our country back.” This anecdotal evidence is sadly backed up by numerous reports and actual scientific research.
Now, I’m not saying that everyone who voted leave did so for racist reasons but let’s look at the issues around that campaign in the form of this handy tag-cloud generated by ITV at the time:
Hmmm… what’s that big word in the middle? I can’t quite make it out? Oh yeah – IMMIGRATION! STOP THUH IMMIGANTS STEALIN OWR JOBS!!! AND WIMMINS!!111!! BRINGIN OVER THEH SEASONED FOOOD AND NON-ROMAN NUMERALS!!!!!
Now, you may be reading this and thinking, “This is an outrage! I voted for Brexit and some of my best friends are darkies!” Well, fucking congrats to you ~ you’re the one person who voted in Chancellor Hitler purely because of your concern for train timetabling. But let’s be honest about the company you keep, eh?
Moving on… the hilarious thing about the fuckwit racists having a go at my fellow non-whites is that their votes will mean that the first people to leave Britain will be foreign European workers. I know Poles, Lithuanians, Germans and others who are thinking of moving back to their respective homelands because of Brexit. All of these people happen to be as white as new-fallen snow.
Do you see?
The Brexit campaign whipped up a xenophobic frenzy, promising, in the eyes of the people it was swindling, a return to GREAT BRITAIN, a Britain free from immigrants. And when racists hear the word ‘immigrants,’ the first ethnic groups they think of are not white, trust me.
And then what happens? SURPRISE, WE’RE ALL STILL HERE!
Which leads me inexorably back to:
The idioms pig in a poke and sell a pup (or buy a pup) refer to a confidence trick originating in the Late Middle Ages, when meat was scarce, but cats and dogs were not. The scheme entailed the sale of a suckling pig in a poke. The bag, sold unopened, would actually contain a cat or dog, which was substantially less valuable as a source of meat. The French idiom acheter (un) chat en poche (to buy a cat in a bag) refers to an actual sale of this nature, as do many European equivalents, while the English expression refers to the appearance of the trick.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pig_in_a_poke)
I feel that the massive lurch to the right of Brexit is a perfect opportunity to inform people that con jobs aren’t new; they are so commonplace that we have enshrined this particular scam in languages from Britain to Vietnam.
Nationalism is a perverse stupidity necessarily contained within borders. Wisdom is truly international.
So, be careful when you see those buses emblazoned with how much extra money the NHS will get if you Vote Boris. Because you’re probably being sold a pup. Or, as the Zulu say, ” Ukuthenga ingulube esesakeni!”
One of the things I find most tedious about het porn is the INEVITABILITY of the sequence of sex actions. It’s always shit dialogue, oral (usually only one way, mind), vaginal, cumshot. Maybe they’ll throw in some anal, maybe they’ll go foot mad or something. But that’s it.
as an old, old man who remembers before it was all quarks round here, I am dulllllled dulll eduelsl argh by this.
Why not start with vaginal penetration and end with a light cheese omelette? And, no, I don’t mean a cum omelette ~ we’ve ALL eaten a cum omelette, I mean a piquant cheese omelette with a souffle-ish texture and a sprig of parsley on top. Hold the blat.
Why not have the bloke come in an eggcup, put it on the roof of his car and then drive to the seaside? You could dub some oldey-timey Harold Lloyd music over this bit. It’d be mint. I wouldn’t know whether to wank or clap.
Why not have the woman dressed up as godzilla and do that metallic SKRREEEKKKKK with every penile thrust? Perhaps she could shoot metal fire out of her arse when she fake-came?
I mean, they say everything has been done but that’s just a lazy excuse dreamt up by postmodernists because they couldn’t be arsed to open their curtains in the morning. Those ideas above are FRESH and EDGY and NOT BEEN DONE BEFORE.
god, I’m bored of porn.
i stfg, I come on here at fucking stupid o’clock, wishing I was dead and feeling worse inside and then one of you twats will do a post of statements wherein all the reactions are SPONGEOB SQUAREPANTS and I just fucking lose it.
I’m crying more than the end scene of blue is the warmest colour
in other news, a woman in Birds actually called me ‘duck’ when I went in to buy a cob earlier and i had to have a little cry in the car before going home
in other other news – the a52 is still fucked up and wth is going on in notts?
Last weekend, I did a nude shoot with the lovely Tania, as pictured above.
I’ve published one nude book so far and done numerous shoots but most of them are kept private as the models are sensitive about families / partners and what they’d think.
So, it’s great to babe able to actually publish these shots, LIVE, on the nets! Woohoo!
I was nervous because it was a paid shoot, we had limited time and I have very definite ideas about what I don’t want to do. For a start, you will never see retouching on any of my pics. You will see digital cropping, levels, colour vibrancy and the very, very occasional spot removal at the request of a model.
What you won’t see is the plastic-faced Stepford Wife ideal that is, apparently, sponsoring a whole new wave of how women can feel bad about themselves.
I regard women as naturally beautiful. It’s my quest as a photographer to try and capture how *I* see women and share that with the world. In my non-nude portrait work, models will regularly say to me, “Oh, you’ve made me look beautiful!” And I have to correct them, no I didn’t. The beauty is all theirs; all I did was stand at the right spot at the right time and capture the right rays of light.
Fundamentally, if you’re retouching the shit out of your portraits or nude work until the women look like bizarre Uncanny Valley replicants, then you are doing something wrong. Here’s my advice to you:
STOP. CONSIDER THE DAMAGE YOU ARE DOING. WOMEN ARE SEEING YOUR IMAGES AND WONDERING WHY THEY DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT. YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM.
Look, I’m a sociologist, I’ve read enough Kristeva and Barthes and Bazin to realise that every photographic image is not only a construction, it is an argument. I’m not arguing from some naive stance of ‘realism’ or ‘essential truth.’ I believe every image is a semiotic hand grenade, fling them around without concern and you will be hurting people.
To stretch the metaphor past breaking… this nude shoot was a minefield for me! I want to represent Tania’s beauty and personality, I want to show how the light hugs her hips and kisses her abdomen. BUT I don’t want to be part of the same old bullshit discourse where all naturalism is lost in the effort of creating an ephemeral, anonymous ur-female, in trying to capture the immanent.
So, have a look at my pics of Tania. Question how they make you feel. Question why I made them – what the fuck am I trying to say? What can I say in nude female photography that hasn’t been said a million times already?
Then, when you have the answers… write a book about it, don’t send it to me! 😛
To boldly snog…
No, no, not THAT kind of fantasy, yer slash pervs! 😛
A discussion on Facebook lead me to posting this:
This one is EASY PEASY LEMON SQUEEZY:
From non-Trek SF telly:
1. Captain Samantha Carter
2. First Officer Lee Adama
3. Chief Engineer Kaywinnet Lee Frye
4. Tactical/Security Officer Kiera Cameron
5. Helmsman Ulysses Adair
6. Chief Medical Officer Dr. Walter Bishop
7. Operations John Kennex
8. Science Officer Orac
1. Captain Wesley Crusher
2. First Officer Amanda Rogers
3. Chief Engineer Hugh Borg
4. Tactical/Security Officer Gary Seven
5. Helmsman Morn
6. Chief Medical Officer Dr. M’Benga
7. Operations M’Ress
8. Science Officer Saru
What would your dream crew be, eh?
My reply to the above:
If you compare TOS to reboot BSG, then it may look dated and certainly the effects are *now* inferior. BUT at the time TOS came out, it was a revolutionary series, in terms of both conception and (where the studio allowed!) execution. The first inter-racial kiss on US TV: check. A bridge crew of officers which included numerous human ethnicities AND Spock? Check. A future which is has abolished money and where education, food, shelter and healthcare are free for every human? Check. And it’s well known that Roddenberry actually wanted to push even further but the studio wouldn’t have it.
BSG may be absolutely “sexier” and “grittier” but *for the time it was made and released*, it took far fewer risks than TOS. So, BSG may seem edgier but, really, how many real risks did it take compared to TOS? None that I can remember.
Also, I would argue that dystopias are lazy, we’re drowning in them! Every new YA is set in a dystopia with a plucky Mary Sue-ish heroine torn between two boys, one bad, one good, both gorgeous and, like, totally into her. I’m not saying BSG is the same as Divergent or Maze Runner or The Hunger Games but it is Yet Another Robot Uprising Armageddon. It’s hard to write a happy song, very easy to write a sad one. Roddenberry’s genius is that he wrote a happy song that wasn’t The Frog Chorus. (see also Iain M. Banks’ Culture.)
Dystopia… pah, gimme a UTOPIA, like Roddenberry did. Give me an Earth with a mature, cohesive humanity, a place of wonder and beauty that can inspire us now. (And then pit that world against all kinds of wild, external baddie, sure.)
You can’t watch TOS now as it actually was back then because TOS itself changed the world. Trek permeates everything. BSG is quality entertainment, Trek is an entire philosophy of life.