do you think that when fred and george started hogwarts all the teachers were like “ahh more weasleys. lovely. their brothers were such good students i’m sure they’ll be just the same.” and then the twins walked into their first class and just SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKERS
“This isn’t your typical love story…” opens the trailer for a movie about a white, heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied, middle class, and likely loosely Christian couple who find each other through serendipity and a very small amount of actual work.
reverse werewolves. wolves that turn into confused but excited humans every month at the full moon and run around doing weird human stuff until they wake up the next day in the middle of an office with a suit loosely draped over their wolf form
Alpha werewolves excitedly crashing Home Depot and getting tons of hammers and wrenches and lumber all like I’M GONNA BUILD A DECK!!!
“According to a recent study conducted by students at Harvard University, it is now literally impossible to properly satirize the issues of police brutality and corruption.
The study attempted to analyze various attempts at making satire directed at the prevalence of police brutality within the United States, and tried to measure the ability of various pieces of satire to adequately fulfill a number of standards of good satire.
"Satire," said one of the Harvard researchers, Alicia Powell, "is a form of comedy in which one portrays an exaggerated version of a social or political issue, and does so in a tone which clearly suggests condemnation of one side."
She continued, “On the one hand, satirizing the issue of police brutality seems extraordinarily easy. You just need to imagine a scenario where a police officer does something cartoonishly evil, and is defended by practically all of society and gets away with it. This seemed relatively straight-forward, but as our study went on, we came across some surprising - or perhaps not so surprising - results.”
The study involved interviews with various popular satirists, as well as exhaustive analysis of real-world instances of police brutality. One aspect of the study involved showing people a mixture of real headlines and satirical headlines involving police brutality and corruption. A sample size of two thousand people, across many races, genders, and various other backgrounds, showed that literally no one was able to distinguish between the real stories and the fake ones, with an astonishing 84% insisting afterward that clearly every headline was actually satire, as there was no way scenarios so absurd could actually happen in the real world.
One writer for the popular satirical news website The Onion said, “I was going to write an article about a police officer seeing a black man holding a sandwich, saying that the sandwich was actually a gun, and then shooting him ten times. Except now that’s actually happened. Only worse, because first he tasered the teen, and shot him not ten times, but sixteen. How can I write satire when the most absurd, outlandish things I can dream up are actually happening in the real world? I might as well just become a regular journalist, it would literally be the exact same thing at this point.”
Another satirist, the author of the Tumblr news blog The Wishwashington Post, commented, “I give up. I literally give up. I could write a ridiculous article about, like, the Ferguson Police Department doing a drone strike on Ferguson and saying it was self-defense because all the black people all had guns, and then they all get applauded for being brave officers and they all get bonuses and white people shake their heads about how violent black people are and how they were just looking for an excuse to protest or riot and how if they didn’t want to be bombed they should’ve just been more civil to white people… but honestly, I could probably turn to Fox News a few weeks from now and hear that story. Verbatim.”
They went on to say, in an exasperated and hopeless voice, “I can’t do it. They are literally parodies of themselves. I give up. I’m done.”
While the study did account for the phenomenon of Poe’s Law, in which satire of extremism is often indistinguishable from the real thing, the study nevertheless concluded that true satire of police brutality is now impossible. One of the study’s closing comments read, “You can poke fun at the extremes of certain situations, but when extreme is the norm, it seems almost fruitless and redundant. You could write a satirical article about how the sky is so incredibly blue, and you can play up how absurdly blue it is, but when you look up, it really is that blue. You haven’t made anything up. You haven’t made a cartoonish parody of the real thing. You’ve documented a fact. It’s not satire, it’s just humorous, depressing journalism.””—
Police Brutality Now Literally Impossible To Satirize, Study Finds
But how did Edward get it up if vampires don’t have blood
because i wasted money on this big informational book about the series i can tell you. Stephanie Meyers said that all the vampires had venom to replace all bodily fluids. He came venom. His penis was a literal snake. Yes
oH MY GOd thIS IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING I COULD HAVE HOPED FOr
Okay, so I'm /actually/ about to write a porn fic to AO3, and I'm interested in knowing what the difference is between the M rating and E rating. Able to enlighten me?
Mature is ‘and then they made love.’ Explicit is ‘and here’s how they did it exactly.’
To wit: mature.
He looked at the envelope, spread out before him.
God, he’d never been this hungry.
Could he be gentle enough? Slow enough? He didn’t want to damage it, didn’t want to do anything he’d regret… but no, no, it seemed the envelope wanted this as much as he did. It slipped into his hands, it folded as he asked. When it was time for more, the card was waiting, and he somehow knew exactly what to do. He moved with his correspondence in a dance as old as the mail system, and when it was over, he was smiling and the envelope was completely, thoroughly sealed.
The envelope waved its flap in the air slowly, gently, and he could see the faint shimmer of the adhesive traced along its fold. It was like a taunt, a dare: won’t you? And he would, oh, God, he would, lifting the envelope firmly to his lips, licking slowly at first, then faster, more firmly, tasting the envelope’s essence, the faint bitterness, the sweetness to follow—
Oh, he couldn’t help but smile at how it felt in his hands. It was so perfectly folded. Its paper was rough against his fingers, and its crossed folds shifted slightly as it opened for his eager tongue. Yes, yes…
Now the card, and his hand trembled as he lifted it, as he held the envelope, stretching it wide. Would it fit? Oh… oh, yes, it would fit, it slid in smooth and quick and filled the envelope to bursting, oh, made for each other, and he smiled in delight at how perfect it was.
He was ready. Now, now, now: with one swift movement he folded the flap over and he pressed, yes, he pressed the flap down and it stuck, God, it stuck perfectly, and he closed his eyes in bliss.
Afterwards, he stroked the envelope, and thought about addresses.