THEY’RE MADE OUT OF MEAT



“They’re made out of meat.”

"Meat?"

"Meat. They’re made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat."

"That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat."

"Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you."

"So … what does the thinking?"

"You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We’re supposed to talk to meat."

"That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"

“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe."

"That’s it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?"

"They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone …"

(Reblogged from ailbhe-leamy)

ghostflo:

cognitivedissonance:

youngblackandvegan:

astoldbywhit:

youngblackandvegan:

nuttyproff:

Timing. 

hey, baby’s gotta eat

black mommy excellence

I don’t support breast feeding in public places. Sorry not sorry. I just think there is a time and place for everything.

the time is when the baby is hungry

and the place is where the mother is able to feed the baby

everyone is always critiquing black motherhood and here we have a black woman not only graduating but giving her baby the nourishment it needs 

i think there’s a time and place for your negativity

and it’s not now and it’s not on this picture

BOOM

people don’t realize that when they say parents shouldn’t breast feed in public they’re really saying “my discomfort and objectification of breasts is more important than your child’s health and survival.” all you fuckers who say this shit should be charged with neglect. you can’t forbid people from feeding their children just cause boobs give weak dudes boners.

(Reblogged from ailbhe-leamy)

Anonymous said: you look fucking stupid in a dress, DUDE

seawallglen:

pluckyyoungdonna:

dajo42:

image

come closer one second

image

little closer

image

okay close enough

image

i have a simple question: which of us is wearing a crown?

image

that would be me.

image

do you know what this crown means?

image

it means i look fucking cute

image

and you’re the human embodiment of a sore butt

image

now as your fucking queen, i royally declare

image

that i am beautiful and you are a listerine enema

Listerine enema oh my god

ALL HAIL!

(Reblogged from seawallglen)

relyonloveonceinawhile:

whatmariadidnext:

two4fit:

TABLOID HEADLINES WITHOUT THE SEXISM

"WOMAN IN TRACKSUIT PROBABLY NOT DISOWNED BY ENTIRE FAMILY"

"It’s mildly breezy outside."

(Reblogged from ailbhe-leamy)

(Source: the-average-gatsby)

(Reblogged from rhube)
wizzard890:

xshruglife:



“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”  Oscar Wilde


Forever reblog

This gif’s widespread use as shorthand for the concept of ~weaponized femininity~ has always bothered me, and I’ve never understood why it’s become so popular. I mean, sure, at first brush, it seems obvious: here is a studiedly beautiful woman who, with the simple gesture of placing a cigarette between her lips, has dozens of men wrapped around her finger, vying for her favor. But just take a minute here and look at her face. She’s not reveling in this, you get the feeling that she didn’t even expect it, this woman is upset and overwhelmed by the amount of male attention she’s getting.
Because this is a pivotal moment in a movie about a woman who is forced into prostitution.
Giuseppe Tornatore’s Malena came out in 2000, and starred Monica Bellucci as the titular Malena, a young wife whose husband is off fighting for the Axis Powers in WWII. Beautiful and shy, Malena tries to keep to herself, but finds it increasingly difficult as word of her husband’s absence attracts not only the attention of all the men in town, but the bitter jealousy of their wives and lovers. She does nothing to encourage any of her suitors, and instead spends her days caring for her aging father. But this uneasy peace in her life is shattered when she receives word of her husband’s death, and she’s left to fend for herself in a town where half the people only care for her body, and the other half hate her for it.
In the rest of the film we see the following: Malena’s relationship with her father destroyed as a result of sexual slander, Malena taken to court by a jealous neighbor who swears the young woman was sleeping with her husband, Malena’s rape by her lawyer as “payment” for her legal fees, Malena’s entry into the world of prostitution, and Melena’s public beating, stripping, and humiliation at the hands of the town’s women when the Americans arrive at the end of the war. Her husband appears in the third act, somehow alive, and he reclaims his wife, restoring her to respectability, and the townspeople begin to accept her once more, now that she is on the arm of her husband, and has, as some of the women whisper, ‘put on a little weight”. 
But in spite of all of that, the film isn’t Malena’s story. Instead, we see her life through the eyes of our narrator, a young boy who by turns worships her and is disgusted by her “fall”. This is his coming of age, his discovery of himself through Malena’s trauma and the specter of female sexual jealousy.
In short, this is not a woman’s movie. Malena’s beauty is a cage, something that draws awful, selfish responses from the men around her, responses that she is forced to endure as a result of her situation. And what’s worse, her looks isolate her from women, none of whom can see past her smoky eyes and hourglass figure to the heartbroken widow who needs a friend.
So you know. Use gifs if you like, weaponize that femininity in the most numbskulled, reductively simple way possible, because lipstick is ~how you control men~ and Sex Is About Power, like Oscar Wilde said. Just remember that in this film, and so tragically often in real life, that power doesn’t rest in women’s hands. 

wizzard890:

xshruglife:


“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”  Oscar Wilde

Forever reblog

This gif’s widespread use as shorthand for the concept of ~weaponized femininity~ has always bothered me, and I’ve never understood why it’s become so popular. I mean, sure, at first brush, it seems obvious: here is a studiedly beautiful woman who, with the simple gesture of placing a cigarette between her lips, has dozens of men wrapped around her finger, vying for her favor. But just take a minute here and look at her face. She’s not reveling in this, you get the feeling that she didn’t even expect it, this woman is upset and overwhelmed by the amount of male attention she’s getting.

Because this is a pivotal moment in a movie about a woman who is forced into prostitution.

Giuseppe Tornatore’s Malena came out in 2000, and starred Monica Bellucci as the titular Malena, a young wife whose husband is off fighting for the Axis Powers in WWII. Beautiful and shy, Malena tries to keep to herself, but finds it increasingly difficult as word of her husband’s absence attracts not only the attention of all the men in town, but the bitter jealousy of their wives and lovers. She does nothing to encourage any of her suitors, and instead spends her days caring for her aging father. But this uneasy peace in her life is shattered when she receives word of her husband’s death, and she’s left to fend for herself in a town where half the people only care for her body, and the other half hate her for it.

In the rest of the film we see the following: Malena’s relationship with her father destroyed as a result of sexual slander, Malena taken to court by a jealous neighbor who swears the young woman was sleeping with her husband, Malena’s rape by her lawyer as “payment” for her legal fees, Malena’s entry into the world of prostitution, and Melena’s public beating, stripping, and humiliation at the hands of the town’s women when the Americans arrive at the end of the war. Her husband appears in the third act, somehow alive, and he reclaims his wife, restoring her to respectability, and the townspeople begin to accept her once more, now that she is on the arm of her husband, and has, as some of the women whisper, ‘put on a little weight”. 

But in spite of all of that, the film isn’t Malena’s story. Instead, we see her life through the eyes of our narrator, a young boy who by turns worships her and is disgusted by her “fall”. This is his coming of age, his discovery of himself through Malena’s trauma and the specter of female sexual jealousy.

In short, this is not a woman’s movie. Malena’s beauty is a cage, something that draws awful, selfish responses from the men around her, responses that she is forced to endure as a result of her situation. And what’s worse, her looks isolate her from women, none of whom can see past her smoky eyes and hourglass figure to the heartbroken widow who needs a friend.

So you know. Use gifs if you like, weaponize that femininity in the most numbskulled, reductively simple way possible, because lipstick is ~how you control men~ and Sex Is About Power, like Oscar Wilde said. Just remember that in this film, and so tragically often in real life, that power doesn’t rest in women’s hands. 

(Source: defpro)

(Reblogged from redwitch)

caterjunes:

"can i come in?"

"i don’t know, can you?”

cursing quietly, the vampire backed away, foiled yet again by the english teacher’s pedantry

(Reblogged from emilysidhe)

noonafeels:

OH MY I JUST SNORTED MY MILK.

(Source: sandandglass)

(Reblogged from mums-the-nerd)

(Source: popsonnet)

(Reblogged from emilysidhe)
I spent like 10 years of my life pretending to fly around on a broomstick and you’re asking me if preparing for a love scene was ‘tricky’ because the other person also had a penis?
Daniel Radcliffe (via hankgreensmoustache)
(Reblogged from curiouslybritishthoughts)