Listening to this song feels different after reading this post.
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
at a tribal finance conference listening to a quileute tribal council member talk about how companies have bought every house in forks, wa because it’s a tourist destination so they can’t hire people to work for the tribe
anyway fuck stephenie meyer for profiting so intensely off of racist stereotypes of quilteutes and all native people while never contributing a dime to help them solve the problems she caused!
if you have the ability, you can donate to their move to higher ground fund here: https://mthg.org
If you genuinely interpreted it with your whole heart, congratulations, you did it right. There is no way to enjoy art wrong. Let me say that again for the people in the back - THERE. IS. NO. WAY. TO. ENJOY. ART. WRONG.
I'm too tired to have smart words on this, so I'm hoping this post finds somebody who does.
i keep trying to listen to myth by the narcissist cookbook but i’m so worried about doing it wrong somehow because everyone on here seems to love it and like what if i don’t ??? so i have been just avoiding listening to it out of that fear and it sucks because i want to have fun with you guys but unfortunately there is a collection of demons in my brain and their leader is called ocd
idk, i hear that a lot of job interviewers are weirdly prejudiced against kickin dogs in the face and body so maybe???
is high jump kicking peoples dogs punk
So I went to a @narcissistcookbook concert a few days ago (it was fucking amazing!!!!!) and Mx. Cookbook played "Sugar in my Coffee", and they explained at the "golden decaf" line that it was meant to be a play on "golden calf" (presenting coffee as a sort of "false idol") and that they were disappointed nobody seemed to get what they thought was quite a clever reference, so I think y'all should go tell TNC they did a good job with that line and that it was a very clever and funny line <3
pretty much same thing happened in canada, even down to the conservative leader losing his fucking seat. genuinely the funniest thing ever XD
liberals got fucking thrasheddddd lets go labour for the win. dutton lost his seat too which is hilarious. actually awesome let’s fucking go
It's the slightly unfocused eyes that do it for me. Like, there are no thoughts happening behind those eyes. You say I violated the Geneva Convention?? Girlie I understand maybe two of those words at most.
I am begging everyone to listen to UNEND, it's absolutely awesome
Can I offer you a nice floof in this trying time?
Rb to give your mutuals a baby stoat to gently hold