Just Post

Not that anyone but other comic geeks are likely to care, but I knew from one thing that the show would flop.

This one thing showed very clearly that it was a show being pushed by executives that didn't understand the source material in the hopes of wringing an little cash out of the Inhumans since the X-Men were out of the running. At the time, that was Marvel's big push, to make the Inhumans popular so that they could take the place of the X-Men in fandom. Which was doomed to fail to begin with just like the show.

But, that one thing. Medusa. The second she was bald, it was obvious that the entire show was half-assed. Making her hair, the super power she has, disappear could be a decision made only by someone that didn't want to spend money on the character.

Which showed blatantly that the show would be low quality in every other way too. If you aren't willing to invest in your main characters, any show is fucked from day one. Anyone trying to make an Inhumans show, seeing Medusa and thinking "Damn, that hair is going to be a major CGI expense. I know! Lets shave the hair off! That'll fix it!" Is about as uncreative and stupid as it gets, and needed to find a job outside of tv and movies.

It's a freaking super-being show. And they went out of their way to make said beings as un-super as possible.

At some point in that process, someone with some authority didn't just scrap out as a bad idea and wasted a shit ton of money and time. It was doomed before it ever got the first scene filmed because the people running it were idiots

🙂🙃

Remember, kids! The only thing between you, a stolen childhood, and the soul crushing work as a breaker boy is the government! Corporations only care about one thing, and it's not YOU!

Lewis Hine was employed by the National Child Labor Committee (NCLC) in the early 1900s to photograph children working in various industries across the United States, including mines, factories, and mills. His goal was to expose the harsh realities of child labor and advocate for its abolition.

Mining is seen as conservative leaning, and while that's truer that it has been in the past, a lot of the labour movement has its roots in mining.

It's Tim's fault. It's all Tim's fault.

Blame Tim.

Something going wrong in your life?

Blame Tim.

What did Tim do? Something, I imagine. He's always the one who did it.

Blame Tim.

What happened that Tim is responsible for in your life? Did he forget to buy milk and left the empty carton in the fridge? Did he forget to take the trash out on Wednesday? Did he kill your wife and blame it on the cat? The cat isn't to blame. Tim is to blame.

How do I know?

Look. You're not getting it. We're blaming Tim today, ok?

It's all Tim's fault.

Just got a good(-enough) news notification on my phone (and yes I do like staying a littttle plugged in high level, deeper diving when really curious). sigh of relief

Some days, it’s too many important & awful stories, though.

Imagine an app that gets copies of all your notifications, analyzes their sentiment locally, and pushes good news stories from the day/month accordingly. (Or more doably, push good news notifications based on how many awful stories major new publishers have written that day.)

Maybe more effective than just following a positive-news-only source, since the biggest-impact good news could be saved up for the darkest days.

They won't be able to see the 3D effect. They have only one eye.

Via the comments, it's been retconed.

Usually id do at least another 5-15 minutes of research but I have to go to work and I thought this was funny. So Just Post it is.

Where I stole this from https://rdx.overdevs.com/comments.html?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.reddit.com%2Fr%2FTopCharacterTropes%2Fcomments%2F1lub0ai%2Fhated_trope_that_kind_of_autistic_character%2F

Why?

1. we blow up tons of shit anyway

2. we need to show fascists they don't own the monopoly on violence

3. Look up operation blazing sword- LGBTQ and BIPOC folks need to arm themselves these days. It doesn't necessarily mean owning a firearm in your home, but having knowledge of firearms and a local place to organize your community to defend against y'all-qaeda sounds like an okay idea nowadays

4. I fired a pistol for the first time two days ago and honestly it was fun

via

I also asked him:

• can we play soccer with the electric shopping carts in the lot after we close
• can i could put googly eyes on the trash cart
• can we get a mariachi band to follow a grandma in an electric cart to play Mario cart music and when she gets painkillers we play the super star music
• can I get roller blades and run around the parking lot bringing carts back inside?
• could I bring my cat to work?
• did you know slugs and snails REALLY love the smell of beer? So the next time we get a damaged case of beer you should give it to me to go catch snails

he said no to all of them. He hates to see a queen slay 🪱

In the sweltering summer of 1911, while most children ran through fields and played carefree games, nine-year-old Nan de Gallant was already burdened with adult responsibilities. Living at 4 Clark Street in Eastport, Maine, Nan would rise early each day and head to Seacoast Canning Co., Factory #2, where she worked as a cartoner—sealing tin cans filled with fish. Hour after hour, she placed lids with practiced precision, her small hands sore from handling cold brine and sharp tin. Sometimes her mother was by her side. Often, she worked alone, enveloped by the hiss of machinery and the sharp scent of salt and fish. Nan’s story was far from unique. Her entire family, including her mother, sisters, and even her brother, worked in the factory. One sister once packed a whole crate of “Arie Hasit” brand fish during a shift that ran from 7 a.m. to midnight during the hectic rush season—no extra pay, no rest. Her brother hauled heavy loads from the boats, also caught in the same punishing cycle. Originally from Perry, Maine, the family migrated to Eastport each summer in search of whatever seasonal work they could find. The labor was grueling and the pay meager—but it meant survival. An old photograph of Nan still exists—her young face framed by a stoic expression, her eyes reflecting the quiet resolve of a child who had learned to endure far too early. There are no tears in her eyes. No smile. Just the haunting resilience of a girl who traded childhood for hard-earned strength.