Beautiful, sad photos of America during segregation.
From: reginasworld:
Recently The Gordon Parks Foundation discovered over 70 unpublished photographs by Parks at the bottom of an old storage box wrapped in paper and marked as “Segregation Series.” These never before series of images not only give us a glimpse into the everyday life of African Americans during the 50′s but are also in full color, something that is uncommon for photographs from that era.
(via paulftompkins)
If I lived in a dorm, I’d hang this in my room.
… actually, scratch that first part.
Inspector Spacetime Poster by ~tinderbox210
Holy crap this is really really really cool.
WHAT’S GOING ON? WHAT IF GOD WAS ONE OF US? WHAT’S WITH THESE HOMIES DISSING MY GIRL? WHAT’S THE STORY, MORNING GLORY? WOULD SHE GO DOWN ON YOU IN A THEATER? WHAT’S THE FREQUENCY, KENNETH? CAN YOU HELP ME REMEMBER HOW TO SMILE? MAKE IT SOMEHOW ALL SEEM WORTHWHILE? WHERE HAVE ALL THE COWBOYS GONE? HUH? TELL ME!
DAMN IT, FREDDIE, YOU’RE HAVING ANOTHER INTERROGATIVE ‘90S EPISODE! SNAP OUT OF IT! IT’S NOT REAL! IT’S JUST- IT’S IN YOUR HEAD!
… IN MY HEAD?
IT’S IN YOUR HE-E-E-E-EEEEAD! IN YOUR HE-E-E-EAD! ZO-OM-BIE! ZO-OM-BIE!
ZO-OM-BEH-EH-EH!
Kids:
A few hours ago, I landed in Los Angeles, turned on my phone, and confirmed what you already know. Sony Pictures Television is replacing me as showrunner on Community, with two seasoned fellows that I’m sure are quite nice - actually, I have it on good authority they’re quite nice, because…
13564 “….Speed was essentially ‘Amadeus on a bus.’”
First they did The Pixies, and now Arcade Fire? Damn, TBT, you are on a roll.
SO TRUE, Mr. Dan Granata. So true. (Also, who knew Hulk would get some of the best comedic moments?)
(Source: tweeeeeets, via lookatthisfrakkinggeekster)
OMG those penguins are so lost.
I DON’T UNDERSTAND. I WAS FOLLOWING THE GARMIN. IT SHOULD BE RIGHT HERE.
WERE YOU FOLLOWING YOUR EYES? BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY. WHY DID WE EVEN GET OUT OF THE CAR?
I SPENT LIKE, $200 ON THAT THING.
SERIOUSLY, WHY DID WE GET OUT OF THE CAR?
Oh, the joy.
My entire quoting existence is now validated.
It’s true, all penguins are Communists.
IF YOU’RE HAVING COLD FEET ABOUT THE NECESSITY OF REVOLUTION, COMRADE, NOW IS THE TIME TO ABANDON THE CAUSE. IN THE DAYS AND THE MONTHS TO COME, WHEN THE SHACKLES THAT HAVE BEEN PLACED UPON THE WORKING CLASS FALL TO THE BLOOD-SOAKED GROUND, WHEN THE SOCIAL AND THE SPIRITUAL REALMS ALIKE ARE UNDERGOING THE NECESSARY TRANSFORMATIONS, THERE WILL BE NO ROOM AMONG OUR RANKS FOR THE FAINT OF HEART OR THE WEAK OF WILL. THIS ARE THE FLAMES OF WAR WE ARE FANNING! THE BOOMING DRUMS OF FREEDOM THAT SHAKE THE SCALES FROM THE EYES OF THE BLIND! IF WE WAVER THEN ALL IS LOST!
I farted.
ALL WILL BE FREE TO FART IN THE GLORIOUS FUTURE FOR WHICH WE STRUGGLE!
Today is my first day of maternity leave, despite not actually yet being a mother. Still an incubator. But at least I can be uncomfortable and moaning at home, eating as much cereal as I like, without having to pretend that I’m being productive. Just procreative, amiright?
One of the best family stories that I have been thinking of lately is that of my grandmother, when pregnant with her twelfth child, being asked by her eleventh child, “Is that your eternity dress?” Right now I feel like I’m wearing an eternity dress, and this is only my first rodeo.
The past eight months, the time in which I’ve known I was going to have a kid, have been pretty decent. Oh, sure, there were some bumpy spots (the weeks of disbelief and disconnect that there was actually a tiny tadpole changing into a person inside of my person; the weeks of feeling carsick and fatigued and completely revolted by cooked eggs and Chinese food; the eventual hip soreness and impossibility of sleeping on my stomach, and followed by the impossibility of sleeping for any longer than a couple hours at a time no matter how the pillows are arranged; the scary stretch marks; the current achy disgruntly discomfort of everything), but for the most part, I have to say that being pregnant has been fine for me.
In fact, the most annoying thing has not been becoming reacquainted with my body and its new roommate, but having to answer the same questions over and over again. It’s worse than getting married, b/c even perfect strangers (less tactful than Cousin Larry and more annoying than Balki) can immediately spot that you’re expecting and feel free to comment. They’re no dumber than any other small-talk sort of “how was your weekend” question, but the sheer repetitiveness really got to me.
Most often said to me —and what I said in my head:
“You’re still here!” —(This has mostly just been in the last two weeks, but yes, my coworkers’ powers of observation are unmatched.)
“I didn’t know you were pregnant!” —Sorry I forgot to call you personally, but my actual friends and family took up most of my time, so…
“Do you know what it is?” —Well, it’s not a tumor! And probably human.
(after previous question has been seriously answered:) “Oh, a boy! Boys love their mamas.” —And daughters don’t? Or is that some creepy Oedipal fixation thing that we’re going to have to be concerned about in a few years?
“When are you due?” —In a couple years/months/weeks/days. Why, are you busy?
“Are you ready?” —Of course. 300 billion people have done this before me, and it’s constantly been described to me as something so different that you can’t anticipate the ways your life will change, and so amazing that there’s no analogy for the overwhelming love you’ll feel, and so intense that there is no action film with an explosion sequence adequate enough (not even in True Lies? really?), and so EVERYTHING that I should sleep while I can, leave the house alone while I can, pee alone while I can, and also be prepared for my life to change in all ways, for which nothing can prepare you. But we have some clothes, some diapers, and some bottles! A crib even! Yeah, I’m ready. Bring it on.
