"People ask me if there are going to be stories of Harry Potter as an adult. Frankly, if I wanted to, I could keep writing stories until Harry is a senior citizen, but I don’t know how many people would actually want to read about a 65 year old Harry still at Hogwarts playing bingo with Ron and Hermione."
Happy 49th Birthday J.K. Rowling, July 31st 1965.
just another flower growing in a concrete jungle.
Lets do an experiment: reblog if you would feel safer hanging out with trans women (regardless of what genitals they currently posses) than Cis women who are transphobic and deny trans women’s obvious womanhood.
MY GIRLFRIEND IS FUCKING INSANE
No it would be instantaneous and then your body would float around those big colorful nebulas and you could get to other galaxies and maybe become part of a moon or get incinerated in a star or fall into a black hole.
You could become part of an asteroid and impact on a moon and your microscopic dust remains are scattered all over the crater.
You could become part of a star and undergo nuclear fission and turn into hydrogen and your body is a tiny fraction of the process of the star and you make light for the universe and then the star ages and your atoms get turned into iron and then the star goes supernova and you’re spewed across the universe as space dust.
You could land of a kind-of habitable planet and your DNA survives as you start to decompose and in a few million years the primitive life forms of your body become science’s greatest mystery for humankind.
You could be found by an alien civilization who’s also wondering ‘are we alone in the universe’ and suddenly they know they’re not because woah processed materials and tools and crazy-developed processing centers woah and then in a couple thousand years they make first contact because of the space-travelling cultural revolution your corpse prompted in their society and the humans of the future go ‘how did you get all these spaceships and junk’ and they reverently pull out your body and you are interred with great fanfare and people make you statues and holidays and stuff.
Your body could end up literally anywhere in the universe and you’d be the first human there because who said you had to be alive huh?
What is wrong with you
if anyone asks you what florida is like just show them this
characters that are several centuries old calling everyone “kid”
someone finally being like “i’m not a kid i’m like in my twenties”
the character that’s several centuries old just looking at them with a deadpan expression
"i’ve been alive for hundreds of years. everyone is a kid to me. you’re a kid, kid"
A spoken word poem on hipster racism, whiteness, white privilege, cultural appropriation, and micro aggression. It’s fucking amazingly done.
I will forever reblog this every time I see it.
Kai Davis and Safi Niara – Brave New Voices 2012 – Philadelphia Round Two
Your horn-rimmed glasses,
Vintage leather oxfords,
Authentic woven Guatemalan bookbags,
And your crafty, handmade, wooden iPhone cases,
Tell me you are none other than a self-affirming,
Dear dirty hipsters,
It’s bad enough, I see you every day on the same corner of the park,
Smelling of week old piss,
Jammin’ with some dope Rastafarian drummers,
Bein’ all integrated and shit,
Hugging trees and smoking them in the same breath,
… hair dreadfully resembling locks
Acting like you’re down because you say “fuck the system!” but in the same
breath, are quick to gentrify the hell outta my hood!
When you call them on it,
they say things like “I don’t see color,”
“Oh my god, I didn’t even know you were black until just now.”
What you meant to say was, “oh, I’m choosing to deny your personal identity and heritage in order to make me feel more comfortable.”
“I’m comfortable enough to say ‘nigga’ with my black friends, and by the way, I have black friends.”
They’re quick to suck a culture–appreciated, appropriated–
Act like it’s an act of love and solidarity, when really you just turn it into organic, alternative, indie, vomit.
“Yeah, I listen to rap music–I love A Tribe Called Quest.”
And this is the part where me and my homies give you the side eye.
Why do you think that’s okay?
You don’t get cool points because you’re 13% “Native American.”
You don’t get points for slumming it in the hood when you still clutch your purse every time you walk past a black man, when your privilege is still the most prominent thing about you.
And butchering African songs, buy yourself Indian garb, “is that racist?”
Yes, it is.
And we don’t mean to offend you by calling you racist,
We know that according to you, we’re all a part of the “human race.”
But you have the tendency to treat animals better than humans.
We know you hipsters like cats with ironic pet names, like Ernest Hemingway, or Zooey Deschanel.
I just hope to God you don’t feed it meatless, gluten-free, toxin free… kibbles and bits,
When you know DAMN WELL YOUR CAT DON’T LIKE THAT SHIT!
You’re as intolerable as an Odd Future lullaby.
We don’t need to hear your feelings about OUR ISSUES!
“To be fair, as a white person–“
Nuh nuh nuh, SHUT THE FUCK UP!
You’re constantly biting at our ears with unwanted opinions, you’re blogging Tumblr posts concerning your liberal perspective.
Not to mention your ability to multiply, gathering followers in every second hand bookstore, leafing through anarchist literature, claiming you’re an activist–
Walking past the poverty in your own city towards a donation box for mythical African children, because all that continent needs is another ivory savior who’s convinced Africa is a country.
I’d rather eat my own face, chew raw venison,
Than listen to you tell the same story about how you don’t listen to CD’s because you’re strictly vinyl.
I’m sure these points will fly above your ninety dollar haircut,
Designed specifically to make you look like a vagabond.
And I’ll walk down the street and see another one of you.
Crank up your dubstep mixtape,
Sip on your raspberry seltzer water.
I’ll call you a douche,
You’ll call me “reverse-racist,”
Then hopefully you’ll cry hipster tears of sorrow,
Sauntering towards the next removable trend, so when the suburbs call, you can answer properly,
Just as long as it still affirms your individuality–
Because being cool, while not being cool, is almost as cool as being yourself.
^^Thanks for the transcript!
long-distance friendships are terrible because you can’t meet up with them whenever you want and hang out on any given day which is why when i’m president i’m relocating the entire human population into a 10,000,000 story skyscraper that also acts as a bridge from earth to the moon which comes with the added benefit of swinging the moon around like a fucking mace, god damn it’s gonna look so cool. what was i talking about
do u ever wonder how many of ur followers live near u
i have two pages of shitty halloween puns on my phone saved for october and i came up with most of them myself
If you’re Christian I hope you don’t believe asexuality exists because you are implying you and/or others are immune from sinful lust, which is applying divine properties to humans and therefore defying crucial theological principles.
It’s just in asexuals are actually have divine properties