It must be exciting to flit from one camp to the next, serving whichever Lord or Lady you fancy.
And while we’re on the subject, I’d like to say a few words about escapism. I hear the term bandied about as if it’s a bad thing. As if “escapist” fiction is a cheap opiate used by the muddled and the foolish and the deluded, and the only fiction that is worthy, for adults or for children, is mimetic fiction, mirroring the worst of the world the reader finds herself in.
If you were trapped in an impossible situation, in an unpleasant place, with people who meant you ill, and someone offered you a temporary escape, why wouldn’t you take it? And escapist fiction is just that: fiction that opens a door, shows the sunlight outside, gives you a place to go where you are in control, are with people you want to be with (and books are real places, make no mistake about that); and more importantly, during your escape, books can also give you knowledge about the world and your predicament, give you weapons, give you armour: real things you can take back into your prison. Skills and knowledge and tools you can use to escape for real.
As JRR Tolkien reminded us, the only people who inveigh against escape are jailers.”
“I said to Viggo, ‘I’m gonna put the camera down the hillside a little bit. Can you try to kick the helmet close to the lens? Because it will look great if it just flies past us.’”
“And so Viggo did 4 takes. He boots this helmet. And then he let out the scream. I thought, ‘Wow! This is strong. This is like Aragorn is just in total grief at what’s happened to Merry and Pippin. This is really cool.’ He didn’t say anything to us…but we found out that Viggo had actually broken 2 toes with that last kick. Viggo actually feeling that pain, and turned that into a performance. He stayed in the character of Aragorn.”
Viggo is a damn BOSS. I wish I could be like that.
DD: Let’s just say that six years have passed and six years that we’ve been together in some capacity. So our relationship that grew over nine years is now almost 15 years. It’s almost like a lifelong partnership at this point, and it’s interesting to watch it develop and grow in the medium of a thriller at the same time. That’s kind of the fascinating thing about this film, is that its a 15-year thing going on between us. That’s interesting to watch on screen because it’s actual. Usually on screen people meet and fall in love [suddenly], I would think. Isn’t that the way it usually happens?
GA: Yeah, usually happens.
DD: We’re just like tired of it already — 15 years.
GA: Yeah, we’re old timers. We’re already in love.
Filmazing, July 2008 (x)
One of my bookshelves.The divider on the fourth shelf separates the books I’ve ”read” vs. the ones “to-read.”
Land Girls | 1.01
Two pieces of advice. Forget about your silly town lives, things are very different here. And give total devotion to your duties. Remember those and everything will be fine. Clear?
This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.
A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!
Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different” animals.
All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.
Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play, they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see what he’s all about!
Let me tell to you a thing.
This is Lenore. I first saw her in a little cage at the Petco I frequent (I used to take my parents’ dog in for puppy play time), and she looked like the grouchiest, old, crotchety cat in the world, and I fell instantly in love. She was cranky, she was anti-social, hanging out at the back of her cage. Her fur was matted because she wouldn’t let the groomers near her.
She was perfect.
But I didn’t have a place for her. I wasn’t living in my own space yet, and where I was, I wasn’t allowed cats. So I pressed my face to the bars of her cage and I promised that if no one had adopted her by the time I’d bought a house, I would come back for her.
I visited her every week for over six months while I looked for a house. At one point, they had to just shave her entire rear-end because the mats or fur were so bad. They told me she clawed the heck outta the groomer that did it, screamed the entire time, and spent the next two days growling at anyone that came near the cage.
A couple of weeks later, I closed on my house. I went back and I got an employee, and I said: “That one. I need that cat.”
They got the paperwork and the lady who ran the rescue that was bringing the cats in told me that Lenore (at the time, Lila) was 8 years old, had been owned by an elderly lady who had died, and brought in to a different rescue, who’d had her for six months on top of the time I’d been seeing her at Petco.
This kitty had been living in a 3x3’ cube for over a YEAR because she was older and “less adoptable.”
I signed the paperwork, put her in a cat carrier, and drove her to my new home. I had pretty much nothing; a bed, an old couch, a couple of bookcases, and a tank of mice I called “Cat TV”. I let her out of the carrier and onto my bed, and I told her “I told you I would come back for you when I had a place. It’s not much, but it’s yours too now.”
Lenore spent the next three days straight purring non-stop. She followed me around the house purring. Sat next to me purring. Slept next to me purring. Leaning into every touch, purring, purring, always purring. She still purrs if you so much as think about petting her. She’s amazing, and I love her.
So, you know, if you’re thinking about adopting, and you see a beast that others consider “less adoptable,” think about Lenore.
i am crying my fuckign eyes out because 1) the comic, 2) the story, and 3) the notes. almost 232k people on tumblr who have seen this care about less-adoptable shelter pets. RESCUING pets instead of buying from a fucking pet shop. not only do they care about adopting, but adopting the less-adoptable pets.
if i could draw, i would draw a comic about the life-changing duty of volunteering at your local pet shelters and getting involved in these animals, and how important it is… because damn it’s important.
tell everyone you fucking know to adopt from a shelter and never, ever, ever, ever buy from a petshop or a backyard breeder. if you MUST have a young healthy animal instead of a less-adoptable one then do it - any life saved is important and the shelter intakes never, ever end (that’s why they say you save two lives when you adopt: the life of your new pet, and the life that takes the shelter space that you freed by adopting).
(another important note: healthy, young cats and dogs are even included in the less-adoptable lists if they are black and/or pits/american bulldogs/etc. black dogs and cats are adopted at extremely low rates compared to other colors… remember to give them extra love!)