Eminem made out of M&Ms
i’ve seen everything there is to see in this world
Because they don’t always have to be whitewhitewhite.
POC mermaids for the win!
someone write a superhero story where the lady in the ensemble gets fed up for not getting the respect she deserves so she becomes the villain and manages to beat up all her teammates and rules the world
I think this might be my favourite scene in all the Pirates of the Caribbean films. I can’t decide whose reaction I like best: Davy Jones’ look of sheer pride after ruining Will’s tea, Will’s look of “For fuck’s sake, I was drinking that” as it goes flying out of his hand, or Beckett’s look of horror at the sight of wasted tea.
#British problems on the high seas.
six word autobiography: “fuck goddamnit i fucked up so bad”
guys i specifically made that sentence seven words long so someone could comment “but thats seven words” and i could say “fuck i did it again i fucked up” so we could all have a good laugh but no one said it. yall fucked up. i fucked up because i assumed yall wouldnt fuck up. everythings fucked up
There is a strange emptiness to life without myths.
I am African American — by which I mean, a descendant of slaves, rather than a descendant of immigrants who came here willingly and with lives more or less intact. My ancestors were the unwilling, unintact ones: children torn from parents, parents torn from elders, people torn from roots, stories torn from language. Past a certain point, my family’s history just… stops. As if there was nothing there.
I could do what others have done, and attempt to reconstruct this lost past. I could research genealogy and genetics, search for the traces of myself in moldering old sale documents and scanned images on microfiche. I could also do what members of other cultures lacking myths have done: steal. A little BS about Atlantis here, some appropriation of other cultures’ intellectual property there, and bam! Instant historically-justified superiority. Worked great for the Nazis, new and old. Even today, white people in my neck of the woods call themselves “Caucasian”, most of them little realizing that the term and its history are as constructed as anything sold in the fantasy section of a bookstore.
These are proven strategies, but I have no interest in them. They’ll tell me where I came from, but not what I really want to know: where I’m going. To figure that out, I make shit up.
Jack was employed into service for the East India Trading Company and was given command of the Wicked Wench. However, after he set free a cargo of slaves, his employer, Cutler Beckett, had Jack branded as a pirate and the Wench set aflame and sunk. After failing to rescue the Wench, Sparrow struck a bargain with the ghostly captain of the Flying Dutchman, Davy Jones, to resurrect his beloved vessel. Jones returned the ship to Jack in near perfect condition except for the permanently charred hull. This prompted Jack to rename her the Black Pearl.
I DIDN’T KNOW THIS WHAT.
danged sympathetic fictional pirates and their refusal to engage in the slave trade, I’ll tell you what
well hot damn.
More love for Jack <3