7 Year Old Joseph Joestar: Hey granny Erina! I heard uncle Speedwagon talk about some guy you and grandpa grew up with. Some…Dio guy right? Apparently he was pretty scary, but what was he like when he was a kid?
Erina Joestar nee Pendleton, smiling serenely as she knits her grandson a sweater: Dio Brando was a punk bitch. From the cradle to the watery grave.
not to sound like a conservative local pastor but eight year olds should not be playing, like, call of duty even offline
of course i dont think playing violent video game by itself is going to make a kid capable of and willing to commit murder because thats also dumb as shit but children shouldnt be exposed to the concepts of violence and death before they’re able to grasp the implications of it and what effect it can have on them and the way they view the world
Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.
Reblogging for other diasporic and expat folk. Especially non-caucasian diasporic and expat folk. Some things change when you shift countries. Keep the changes in mind.
Whenever I see this I wonder what the gun guys think about it.
when i was 12 i babysat this girl for a few years and she would come to me and show me her art, drag me by my wrists and point at the pieces she’d made during the week. and she’d be like “do the voice” and i’d put on a sports-announcer olympics-style voice and be like “such form! this level of coloring! why i haven’t seen such perfection in crayola in a long time. and what is this? why jeff, now this is a true risk… it seems she’s made … a monochrome pink canvas…. i haven’t seen this attempted since winter 1932… and i gotta say, jeff, it’s absolutely splendid” and she’d fall back giggling. at the end of every night she’d check with me: “did you really like it?” and i’d say yes and talk about something i noticed and tucked her in.
she was just accepted into 3 major art schools. she wrote me a letter. inside was a picture from when she was younger. monochrome pink.
“thank you,” it said, “to somebody who saw the best in me.”
Here’s a thought, maybe people’s growing irreverence for 9/11 is because it was a long time ago and younger generations weren’t as affected by it, or maybe they are so sick of the way it has been basically commercialised by politicians and used as a device to justify incalculable pain and they are tired of it being cynically trotted out every year and told to never forget while every year they are also told to all but ignore mass shootings and US humanitarian crimes.
And like, I dunno, maybe it isn’t about disrespecting those who died but refusing, for any number of reasons, to be a part of the governmental hallmark industry that has built up around it.
I take students to see the 9/11 memorial all the time. More and more of the students I get were either so young or not even born yet.
And every time, I ask them, what do you think? What are you feeling? And many of them are hesitant to respond so I’ll prompt, “Was it sad? Was it boring?” And as soon as they know I’m not gonna judge them for it, 100% of the time, they respond, “I feel bad that I don’t feel as moved by it as you. You cried when you told us about it and I get that it was such a horrible day and so many people died, but I can’t really think of what life was like before or just after that time.”
That really struck me the first time I heard it because these kids really don’t remember a time when things were so carefree and relatively quiet. Little to no security screenings. Almost zero school shootings. Kids stayed outside by themselves until the street lamps came on.
Because they grew up in a post-9/11 society, all they’ve ever known is mass violence and distrust of everything. Kids expect a plane to crash into a building, a truck bomb to go off at a big event, a student shooting up a school. And they’ve just got to deal with it and keep moving on or they won’t survive.
Rex's place 