I don't want you to change. I want you to always be you.


The Bullshit Police in “Friend Zone”

Written by SungWon ProZD Cho

Illustrated by Jackson Siro Wyse

Guess what, fellas, girls are not OBLIGATED to date you, and if what she perceives as a friendship results in you being a whiny piece of garbage because she won’t date you (because how DARE she!!!), then TOO BAD.

Jackson took my “GO MAKE ME A SANDWICH YOLO” shirt from my original script and went all out with a MENAGERIE of terrible clothing.  Good job, Jackson.

(via graceebooks)

But the decision to alter the storyline with Peeta’s leg really troubles me because of what it symbolises. Peeta becomes a prominently disabled character in the series, and his disability becomes part of his experiences. At the same time though, he’s not defined by the disability, consumed by it, and placed in the narrative for the sole purpose of constantly reminding everyone that he’s disabled. Peeta, like other characters, is scarred by the world he lives in, and he bears a visible mark of the cruelty and brutality of Panem, but more importantly, he’s another person trying to survive and build a better world. By neatly cutting that entire plotline away, the filmmakers avoided some tangled and thorny issues.

Like the fact that Peeta is supposed to be a love interest. I can’t help but feel one of the reasons the amputation storyline was taken out was because the filmmakers don’t think amputees can be love interests, or think that the reality of the amputation might be offputting to audiences who wouldn’t be able to identify with the characters if Katniss fell in love with a disabled Peeta, because that sort of thing Isn’t Done. Furthermore, obviously no amputees engage with media and pop culture and certainly don’t want to see versions of themselves on screen, so that angle didn’t need to be considered when preparing the film adaptation.

They probably also feared the idea of a character who happens to be disabled; they couldn’t let him get fitted for a prosthesis and get on with his life. They would have felt compelled to wrap up some kind of special story in it, even though that’s not necessary. Riding right over that storyline can be justified by saying they don’t have time to do it, with all the other things that need to be included. Just like they didn’t have time to view actresses of colour and nonwhite actresses while they were making decisions about the casting of Katniss. Making movies is very busy work, people.

And, of course, Peeta doesn’t comply with narratives above disability. His withdrawal and depression at the beginning of the second book are more about his emotional state over Katniss, rather than his leg. As a character, he’s physically active as well as politically defiant, once he begins to grow into himself. This isn’t what amputees are ‘supposed’ to do in pop culture, and thus it’s a narrative that makes people uncomfortable, and one that the filmmakers evidently simply didn’t want to deal with.

I could be wrong; perhaps in the next film we will learn that infection set in and they took the leg. But I doubt it, highly, because this doesn’t seem to be in character with way Hollywood works, where disability is erased when it doesn’t serve a greater narrative or actively defies tropes. Peeta cannot be allowed to be disabled.

s.e. smith at Tiger Beatdown, So How About Those Hunger Games? (via meggannn)

(Source: squintyoureyes, via peet4-mellark)

I’m not sure I’d put a quote up, if it was me, and I had a library wall to deface. I think I’d just remind people of the power of stories, of why they exist in the first place. I’d put up the four words that anyone telling a story wants to hear. The ones that show that it’s working, and that pages will be turned:

“… and then what happened?”

The four words that children ask, when you pause, telling them a story. The four words you hear at the end of a chapter. The four words, spoken or unspoken, that show you, as a storyteller, that people care.
Neil Gaiman, on which quote he would choose to be inscribed on the wall of a public library children’s area. (via lougimmeamilk)

(Source: copiloting, via hermoines)


Since it’s the last day of the year, I’d like to thank all the people who filled up my dash with awesome posts for the past year, most especially:

cassopeiacarolmarcuscrankthatbrigadierdoomslockgirlwithgoldeyeslanieacklecki ♠ lilith-the-ancientlittlemisshamishlusciousmalloymynameisgreypon-farrremawolfsaucefactoryspodiddlyteamaequitastechnofireflyussawesome

And to those who follow me, thank you very much for following and for putting up with my everything. I’m honored to be followed by you guys.

Ingat! Manigong Bagong Taon!

(Take Care! Happy New Year!)

Thank you so much! You’re great :) Happy New Year!


No guys, I need to stop and talk about something in this movie and how fucking revolutionary it was; something that I haven’t seen in a movie before or since.

This is a movie about a kid who leaves her birth family.

Not a kid who find that they have a secret lineage or something that allows them to find their ‘true family’ - this is a movie about a kid whose true birth family is made up of bad people. So she gets out. And that is played as the right thing to do. She isn’t punished for it or made to feel bad about ‘abandoning her family’. There isn’t an underlying ‘but they’re your family and you have to love them’ or ‘they’re your family and they love you even if they don’t show it well or do hurtful things’ message of the kind that I see OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER in media. Matilda gets out and lives happily ever after because of it.

We need a million more movies like this to counter the metric shit ton of movies that directly counter this message.

(Source: trick-mun, via jzumun)