you should totally talk to me. or, since the ask feature is super restrictive now, submit the messages you want to send me!
i also run fuckyeahbusterkeaton and silentintertitles!
turns out that some messages people have sent me never actually arrived. TUMBLR SERIOUSLY.
if you sent me an ask and i have not responded by now then i definitely have not received it. i get the impression that the submit function is less prone to fucking up than the ask box function so maybe that’s worth trying? I APOLOGISE ON BEHALF OF TUMBLR FOR HOW MUCH TUMBLR SUCKS
hey guyz i feel weird making like an announcement post, but in case anyone prefers it so they can unfollow: i don’t think i’ll be posting anymore in the forseeable future, or if i do it will be super super sporadic. i’m kind of done with tumblr honestly. maybe my ~enthusiasm will return at some point, but considering that it’s been like a year since i last actually wanted to use tumblr, as opposed to just doing so to keep in touch with people while actively hating spending time on here, idk how likely that is.
if anybody wants to keep in touch with me anywhere else i am totally up for that! feel free to pm me and let me know if you want my email address/skype/facebook (tho i don’t really use my fb either tbh) or whatever~. i don’t bite and i obviously don’t have like internet communication standards aside from don’t be a dick, like if you just want to trade links and one sentence caps lock emails once a month i’m down with that, it’s all good. so idk don’t hesitate~~~ if you think we should stay in touch!
I really love pictures with women doing things.
The Stories That Europe Tells Itself About Its Colonial History
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie breaking it down…
“She said once she was shocked that her son while being taught Belgian history, was taught nothing about Congo. She said “They teach my son in school that he must help the poor Africans, but they don’t teach him about what Belgium did in Congo.” Of course, all countries are evasive about the past for which they feel ashamed, but I was shocked by what seemed to me not evasiveness but an erasure of history.
If her son doesn’t learn that the modern Congo State began a hundred years ago as the personal property of a Belgian king, who was desperate to get wealthy from ivory and rubber, if her son doesn’t learn that the hands of Congolese people were chopped off for not producing enough resources to meet the king’s greed, if her son doesn’t learn that the Belgian government later led Congo with a deliberate emphasis on not producing an educated class, so that Congolese could become clerks and mechanics but couldn’t go to university, if her son doesn’t learn that more recently, even thought it was the Americans who installed the Mobutu’s dictatorship, Belgium was a major force behind the scenes propping him off, if this young Belgian boy, knows nothing about these incidents, then, at some point, they would perhaps no longer have happened because the past after all is the past because we collectively acknowledged that it is so.
This young Belgian boy would grow up to see Africa only as a place that requires his aid, his help, his charity with no complications for him. A place that can help him show how compassionate he can be, and most of all, a place whose present has no connection to Europe.
It is not that Europe has denied its colonial history. Instead, Europe has developed a way of telling the story of its colonial history that ultimately seeks to erase that history”
KARSAVINA, Tamara_NPG; 7028. Photo Sandau-Sellin (by Performing Arts / Artes Escénicas)
GUYS did you know there’s a tiny little bit of footage from gloria swanson’s madame sans-gêne still existing in a trailer? BECAUSE I DID NOT KNOW
Belle De Jour.
Betty Compson, The Docks of New York, Josef von Sternberg, 1928.
La femme 100 têtes. 1968, Eric Duvivier.
zinaida gippius 1869-1945
“one of the guiding spirits of the entire symbolist movement…a remarkable early theoretician and practitioner of androgyny and physiological unisex, who rejected the traditional male/female roles as early as the 1890s.”
Somebody I Used to Know by Goethe
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