Tagged: pink
Peter Capaldi did the sweetest thing
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by sending this video to a 9-year old Autistic boy, as The Doctor, to help him cope with his grief.
Once again showing us what kinds of wonderful good the internet is capable of accomplishing.
Hip Hop Sunday: NWA - Express Yourself
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This is what I'll be listening to this afternoon while I bottle my first batch of home-brewed beer which is pretty cool.
Wound up getting up early for some reason and used the time to write my review for The Spill Magazine, schedule some Facebook posts for a client, and make a crazy breakfast based on my favourite (kale-based) dish at The Tallest Poppy.
The extra hour is doing me good.
Happy (Daylight Savings-Inspired) Hip Hop Sunday!
xox
yr girl Shaner
I just want back in your head
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is a line from a song by Tegan & Sara off ‘The Con’ which was released in 2007 during which time I was crazy for a boy who lived in a bad neighbourhood and drove a silly silver car and used to make comic book jokes that always went over my head.
One day after driving around for a while we went to a park and, because it was fashionable at the time, I was wearing this ridiculous ankle-length hippie-style skirt which faded from white to sky blue at the bottom but was totally brown by the end of this story.
Which is that we decided to roll down a giant hill together.
Which, like all bad ideas, seemed like a good idea at the time.
Turns out at the bottom of the hill the grass wasn't nearly as soft and dry as the grass at the top of the hill.
Turns out that, in fact, the grass at the bottom of the hill had a secret layer of mud which
naturally
yr girl rolled straight into like a pro.
Completely covered in mud, white/blue hippie skirt totally ruined.
Of course he managed to totally miss the giant mud puddle and was totally fine
which annoyed me to no end until he walked over to me and picked me up, totally covering his clothes in mud as well
and carried me back to the car.
As we drove back to his place while our fingers played along to the piano in this song on the dashboard and
later, once we were clean, on his headboard.
Orson Welles wrote a love letter
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and of course it was amazing:Dearest Angel Girl,
I suppose most of us are lonely in this big world, but we must fall tremendously in love to find it out. The cure is the discovery of our need for company — I mean company in the very special sense we’ve come to understand since we happened to each other — you and I. The pleasures of human experience are emptied away without that companionship — now that I’ve known it; without it joy is just as unendurable as sorrow. You are my life — my very life. Never imagine your hope approximates what you are to me. Beautiful, precious little baby — hurry up the sun! — make the days shorter till we meet. I love you, that’s all there is to it.
Your boy,
Orson
*via a post by Tony.
At Thom Bargen
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It's so warm outside that the door is open, so
the shop smells like
coffee
wood
and spring.
Which is lovely.
I am here with the intention of getting
positively loopy
on caffeine
and reading
The Gone-Away World.
But am too
distracted
enthralled
and otherwise
nosy
to pay much attention to the book.
The people in the shop are as follows:
Two baristas.
The nice man with the shaved head and
kickass
ginger beard
and
the nice girl who
despite my anxiousness over the decision
nicely
helped me pick some beans to take home.
Three guys.
Discussing something I can't make out
they all have nice
red/dark brown leather wallets
splayed out on the table
between napkins and notepads
and smartphones that keep chiming.
I think they are discussing an art show.
Two girls to my right.
Talking about
travelling alone
hashtags
the rules of the road
the CBC
iPads
and boys
(of course)
Outside.
An amazing man
in a tattered pinstripe three-piece suit just walked by
wearing white wrap-around sunglasses
clearly not giving
one single fuck
just walked by
and
(obviously)
made my day.
Plus me.
Clearly
utterly
tremendously
failing
at reading my book club book.
But that's okay.
People are far more interesting anyway.
Slept on the couch this afternoon
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not because I was tired
but because I was angry
at nothing.
Everything was annoying.
Everything sucked.
Even though
actually
everything is
utterly amazing
right now.
(Waah waah waah)
It's stupid how
even when we should be
happy
we make ourselves so
miserable.
For no reason.
Luckily all yr girl needed
was a nap
some weird dreams
cat holds
and
sunshine.
To not rage at the world anymore.
How we should react to Fred Phelps' death
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Since the news broke of the death of the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church I've seen countless Facebook posts, tweets, and Reddit comments, and images about the subject (see below).
People have posted about picketing his funeral, harassing his family and desecrating his grave.
Reactions like these, so vitriolic and cruel, make me sad.
Because I know we have the capacity to be better than this as a society.
I know that we can take the pain and confusion that the members of the WBC made us feel and let it go. We can understand that these people, however much they may have tried to hurt us or people that we love, don't deserve anything but our sympathy.
If we feel the need to react at all (and honestly, most of us shouldn't) we should make a point to be thankful that someone who was clearly so hateful and spread such sadness doesn't feel the need to do so anymore, and that whatever was raging inside him that caused him to lash out at the rest of the world in the way that he did is now silent.
One of my favourite quotes on the matter is from the always-wise George Takei:
"Today, Mr. Phelps may have learned that God, in fact, hates no one. Vicious and hate-filled as he was, may his soul find the kind of peace through death that was so plainly elusive during his life.
...
I take no solace or joy in this man's passing. We will not dance upon his grave, nor stand vigil at his funeral holding "God Hates Freds" signs, tempting as it may be.
He was a tormented soul, who tormented so many. Hate never wins out in the end. It instead goes always to its lonely, dusty end."
In the end, it is our actions that define us. They defined Fred Phelps, and they will continue to define the members of the Westboro Baptist Church.
It is at moments like these when many of us are able to make a defining choice: do we engage in hate-speak, condemning a man that most of us have never met? Or do we take the higher moral ground, and act like members of a civilized society?
I'd like to think that most of us will do the latter.
So I've started learning HTML & CSS with CodeAcademy
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Pretty sweet, amirite?!
