“There’s glory for you!’
‘I don’t know what you mean by “glory,”’ Alice said.
Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. ‘Of course you don’t— till I tell you. I meant “there’s a nice knock-down argument for you!”’
‘But “glory” doesn’t mean “a nice knock-down argument,”’ Alice objected. ‘
When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean— neither more nor less.’
-“Through the Looking Glass” by Lewis Carroll
BUT INTENT IS MAGICAL YOU GUYS
NO ONE MEANT TO BE OFFENSIVE
Did you read that, raging liberals of Pakistan and the West? Malala does not want the attention. She does not want to be a symbol. She does not want to lose her life because your obsession with symbolizing Muslim women into icons of resistance render damage to their very lives. If you genuinely care, try to understand the context and gravity of the situation.
And for God’s sake, stop reblogging that ridiculous comic strip that completely cartoonizes her.
I’m glad I am not the only one who was uncomfortable with that cartoon. I’ve seen it reblogged multiple times by white feminists.
I hadn’t thought of it this way before. I didn’t reblog the cartoon because something felt “off” about it, and I’m glad I trusted my instincts. Thanks for pointing this out.
Everybody thought Kennedy and Johnson and Nixon were spending four-and-a-half percent of the federal budget each year to prove that America owned Science. This was all a fiction. The Apollo Program was an elaborate demonstration of how even the blandest among us are under the heel of the spirit.
NASA needed astronauts to go plant a flag on the moon. For obvious reasons, the astronauts ended up being the most reliable type of man America makes: white, straight, full-starch protestant, center-right, and spawned by the union of science and the military. Every last one of them was the heart of the heart of the tv dinner demographic. But then
they get shot into space, tossed from the gravity of this planet, across a quartermillion miles of nothing, to be snagged by the moon after three days. Eighteen guys did this and twelve descended further to find out that moon dust smells like gunsmoke. Every single one of them came back irrevocably changed. America had sent the squarest motherfuckers it could find to the moon and the moon sent back humans. Armstrong became a teacher, then a farmer. Alan Bean became a painter. Edgar Mitchell started believing in UFOs. And also managed to crystallize the experience of seeing your entire planet at once:
” —“Naturally you should hate spirituality,” 454 W 23rd St New York, NY 10011—2157 (via hamburglr)
‘You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, “Look at that, you son of a bitch.”’