ALL MY CREYS.
(Source: three-cumberpatch-problem)
63,746 notes
Read this. Now. For real.
Kim Voynar over at Movie City News has defended Roger Ebert from charges of glibness in his recent commentary on assisted suicide. The short version is that Steven Drake of Not Dead Yet finds Ebert’s endorsement of the HBO-produced Jack Kevorkian biopic You Don’t Know Jack an insult to the disabled community — singular? — he ostensibly represents, as our (?) appointed Most Valuable Cripple. The charge: Ebert thoughtlessly proposes that the only real opposition to assisted suicide is from wonky religious special interest groups who still uphold the union of church and state. “What a shithead,” Drake writes, in his best comment-trolling voice. Mission accomplished, and comments successfully trolled. Probably he would have better served his point about the objection from nonreligious disabled rights activists — which is that in the case of parents euthanizing their disabled children, the question of will that is essential to “death with dignity” discourse is glossed over, and disability itself is deemed a plea for death — without the “shithead,” but no matter: Ebert responded graciously and linked to his criticisms.
I love this so much. Who HASN’T had a night just like this?
I am having the kind of crippling, paralyzing insomnia I get about once a week when none of the tricks work, and I just have to wait.
In case you can’t tell, I suck at waiting.
What happens now is what the shrinks call ‘racing thoughts.’ over and over again, at hundreds of miles per minute, I go…
“Microsoft”
I’m being completely serious when I tell you if I had to sum up why Jesse Eisenberg should’ve won the Oscar in one .gif: this would be that .gif. I hope you know why.
And what’s Fonzie like? C’mon, Yolanda! What’s Fonzie like?
He’s cool.
What?
Cool.
Correct-a-mundo! And that’s what we’re gonna be! We’re gonna be cool!
REPEAT THIS TO YOURSELF FOR THE NEXT MONTH AND A HALF, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN.
I went back to Mississippi … I met a man … a famous man … we flirted until I ached from it and we almost almost almost almost almost … and it was head-achy and heart-racy and not a big deal and a huge deal and fun and agonizing and awesome, basically awesome, and I was his painter’s assistant and - and - and -
I’ll see him again in two months.
Life sure can surprise you sometimes.