The DCCC sends out ridiculous shit like this all the time.
-We’re pleading with you.
-This is our last chance
But this one really tops them all. This does not make me want to donate money. This makes me want to never give you ridiculous jackasses any money ever again.
Right? Like, please, DCCC. Have some dignity.
This is what she whispers in people’s ears while smiling for the cameras.
Oh my god that would annoy the shit out of me.
Allah does ask for us to wear it, but the Quran also clearly states that there is no compulsion in religion, so don’t let anyone force you to wear it. Wear the hijab when you personally feel ready, because then you won’t have any regrets. You are a muslim hun, and don’t let others make you doubt yourself. I know a lot of non-hijabis that are really strong Muslimahs, many who I believe even stronger one than I am. You do you boo.
This girl has been rocking my world.
"Don’t tweet about politics, silly musician. Your opinions are invalid. Just sing and dance for us, like a good little entertainer."
Jesus fucking shitcakes. Can someone pull the plug on this middle-aged beltway nightmare of a tumblr already?
This season, it’s all about what’s not there as negative space becomes the focus of the latest crop of designs. Here, Alberto Parada ring.
Open Your Eyes To The Truth And Power Within Yourself, The Moon Is Over The Hammy For A Reason. Think.
I was 11 years old when The Day After aired on ABC. More than 100 million people watched 120 minutes of nuclear fallout on television. My parents let us stay up late to see it, mostly because we insisted, then because as the movie took shape the awe and importance of what we were facing on a day-to-day basis during the Cold War sank in and gripped us like nothing we had ever felt before. All I remember is people turning green, very slowly, and dying.
I read On The Beach in high school. Sort of Auntie Mame meets The Day After, this wonderful novel deals only with the waiting. The last people on Earth unaffected by the death and disease of a global nuclear war wait it out, having car races, cocktail parties, long discussions. It’s honestly the scariest book I’ve ever read.
I initially named my first blog (aw, remember those?) AatomBomb because my internet nom de plume was Aatom Smith, after the philosopher Adam Smith, who grows on me more and more every year.
But the obvious atomic imagery I was evoking means more and more to me as I enter my 15th year of doing whatever the fuck it is we’re doing online. I don’t think I was ever convinced that this type of global calamity would actually happen. I placed, and still do to an irrational extent, some faith in the ability of those in power to keep this type of zero-sum endgame at bay.
But I was, and always will be, fascinated with our collective sense of existential nuclear dread. Made all the more anxiety-inducing with warheads still roaming the planet in a much less regulated way. All it took was a couple of commercial airliners hitting NYC to make us lose our fucking shit for more than a decade.
All of the futurists got it wrong, we’re not out in space fighting giant robots and killing each other near a distant star with fighter spaceships. We spent the last half a century perfecting the ability to wipe out the entire human race.
And there is some sort of awful beauty in that, you have to admit.
Nuclear test 15 megatons, Nevada, 1953, various angles.
There is a certain awful beauty to it, you have to admit.