Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

A geek girl's horde of things literary, superheroic, disney-riffic, historical, adorable, adventurous, delicious, beautiful, and randomly amusing.
Literature in its most comprehensive sense is the autobiography of humanity.
Bernard Berenson (via writingquotes)

redundantthinking:

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I dunno, you could sure train someone in being absolutely adorable.

(via discowing)

helwayne:

comic book meme

[1/5] favorite female characters: Kate Kane

(via justanothercomicgeek)

beggars-opera:

I’ve seen a few fashion posts trying to expand the “Marie Antoinette is not Victorian” rant, but this stuff can get complicated, so here is a semi-comprehensive list so everyone knows exactly when all of these eras were.

Please note that this is very basic and that there are sometimes subcategories (especially in the 17th century, Jacobean, Restoration, etc)

(via halfagony-halfhope)

epigenetics:

The best cure I know, for the pain I’m feeling, lies admidst Gotham’s neon-bathed streets.

I used to think the narration in this panel from Batman v1 #416 was actually Dick’s. It made sense, given that the previous scene was basically him trying to get Bruce to talk to him — which Bruce eventually does, with “I missed you. Now please, get out.

But looking through the rest of the issue, it’s clear that the narration is all by Bruce onlyWhen Dick relates events, the text boxes are clearly laid out in quotations:

For me, realising that the text box in the very first panel is actually Bruce’s narration — well, it’s an important nuance. It doesn’t make Bruce’s behaviour to Dick any less terrible! But, there’s this interesting tinge of grief to it. My feeling, reading this issue, was that he freaked out about Dick getting shot — he couldn’t handle Dick dying, too. The best cure was to retire Robin.

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But like Dick says, this was tantamount to “(kicking) a great big hole” in his life. Robin was such a big part of his life. It was a persona he had grown up with, one he had made his own. In a way, it was like Bruce — who sometimes considers himself more Batman than Bruce, really — by rejecting Robin, was also rejecting Dick. (Who was no doubt already wondering what role he would have in Bruce’s life, as he approached the age of majority when Bruce no longer would be his guardian.)

So Dick took the only option that seemed to remain to him: he left.

My speculation is that Bruce didn’t like this. And, in fact, it upset him greatly. But he’s not the kind of guy who will chase after other people, or show vulnerability by saying he needs or wants Dick to stay. He busies himself with a “case” (I’m sure there was a case, but I’m sure he could have also spared 5 minutes to say goodbye, ffs)

As much as Dick feels like he has nothing left in his life, he eventually manages to pick himself up. He makes a home for himself with the Teen Titans, and he sheds the mantle of Robin to try and become his own man: Nightwing. 

Bruce is actually really proud of what Dick has accomplished, if that little smile means anything. 

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This scene was terrible to read. Dick is basically baring his soul (and this whole thing is clearly a very raw wound for him), but still Bruce can’t say anything to him. It’s Dick who has to ask “why the kid”.

EVENTUALLY Bruce admits that he missed Dick. That Dick was important to him, too, not just Robin. But Bruce has this pathological need to sabotage every remotely meaningful relationship he has.

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Which brings us back to the first panel, and the quote: The best cure I know, for the pain I’m feeling, lies admidst Gotham’s neon-bathed streets. 

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This, I think, was the writers way of finally having Bruce acknowledge that this is as painful for him as it is for Dick. By telling Dick to get out, he basically pushed Dick away — again

And that’s why, when he watches Dick bond with Jason and be all big brotherly to a kid who clearly needs some guidance, he’s happy.

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"Thanks, Dick." 

(Would it kill you to actually tell him that, Bruce? Fff.)

(via justanothercomicgeek)

fyeahdickandbabs:

There’s room for hope:

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Giving her father what he deserved:

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Standing up for rape victims and remaining optimistic about the people in this world despite her terrible childhood:

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Her wisecracks while patrolling/fighting:

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Slapping Batman:

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Man answering this made me sad so I’m going to end this answer with this panel:

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(via justanothercomicgeek)

Okay, okay, I’m going to tell you what Hermione sees in Ron.

A trio is a balancing act, right? They’re equalizers of each other. Harry’s like the action, Hermione’s the brains, Ron’s the heart. Hermione has been assassinated in these movies, and I mean that genuinely—by giving her every single positive character trait that Ron has, they have assassinated her character in the movies. She’s been harmed by being made to be less human, because everything good Ron has, she’s been given.

So, for instance: “If you want to kill Harry, you’re going to have to kill me too”—RON, leg is broken, he’s in pain, gets up and stands in front of Harry and says this. Who gets that line in the movie? Hermione.

“Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself.” Hermione doesn’t say Voldemort’s name until well into the books—that’s Dumbledore’s line. When does Hermione say it in the movies? Beginning of Movie 2.

When the Devil’s Snare is curling itself around everybody, Hermione panics, and Ron is the one who keeps his head and says “Are you a witch or not?” In the movie, everybody else panics and Hermione keeps her head and does the biggest, brightest flare of sunlight spell there ever was.

So, Hermione—all her flaws were shaved away in the films. And that sounds like you’re making a kick-ass, amazing character, and what you’re doing is dehumanizing her. And it pisses me off. It really does.

In the books, they balance each other out, because where Hermione gets frazzled and maybe her rationality overtakes some of her instinct, Ron has that to back it up; Ron has a kind of emotional grounding that can keep Hermione’s hyper-rationalness in check. Sometimes Hermione’s super-logical nature grates Harry and bothers him, and isn’t the thing he needs even if it’s the right thing, like when she says “You have a saving people thing.” That is the thing that Harry needed to hear, she’s a hundred percent right, but the way she does it is wrong. That’s the classic “she’s super logical, she’s super brilliant, but she doesn’t know how to handle people emotionally,” at least Harry.

So in the books they are this balanced group, and in the movies, in the movies—hell, not even Harry is good enough for Hermione in the movies. No one’s good enough for Hermione in the movies—God isn’t good enough for Hermione in the movies! Hermione is everybody’s everything in the movies.

Harry’s idea to jump on the dragon in the books, who gets it in the movies? Hermione, who hates to fly. Hermione, who overcomes her withering fear of flying to take over Harry’s big idea to get out of the—like, why does Hermione get all these moments?

[John: Because we need to market the movie to girls.]

I think girls like the books, period. And like the Hermione in the books, and like the Hermione in the books just fine before Hollywood made her idealized and perfect. And if they would have trusted that, they would have been just fine.

Would the movies have been bad if she was as awesome as she was in the books, and as human as she was in the books? Would the movies get worse?

She IS a strong girl character. This is the thing that pisses me off. They are equating “strong” with superhuman. To me, the Hermione in the book is twelve times stronger than the completely unreachable ideal of Hermione in the movies. Give me the Hermione in the book who’s human and has flaws any single day of the week.

Here’s a classic example: When Snape in the first book yells at Hermione for being an insufferable know-it-all, do you want to know what Ron says in the book? “Well, you’re asking the questions, and she has to answer. Why ask if you don’t want to be told?” What does he say in the movie? “He’s got a point, you know.” Ron? Would never do that. Would NEVER do that, even before he liked Hermione. Ron would never do that.

Melissa Anelli THROWS IT DOWN about the way Ron and Hermione have been adapted in the movies on the latest episode of PotterCast. Listen here. This glorious rant starts at about 49:00. (via karakamos)

(via justanothercomicgeek)

vixyish:

wolverxne:

Freddy The Fox by: [Rob Lee]

Photographers note: "This brave fox wandered up on our porch. He's half cat, half dog, and all cute. When the fox first came for a visit we instantly named it "Freddy the Fox." But after we got to know it we found out Freddy is actually Frederica."

BABYYYYYY

(You can still call Frederica “Freddy”!)

I WAAAAAAAAAAANT IT

(via drunkonbooks)

When 12-year-old girls are watching something like the CW’s long-running campy drama One Tree Hill (which aired from 2003-2012), in which actors like 25-year-old Hilarie Burton played 17-year-old cheerleader Peyton Sawyer, they’re not seeing an accurate portrayal of their future on screen. They’re seeing a glamorized vision of some executive’s idealized version of high school instead. When a real 16-year-old cheerleader flips on the CW and sees fellow pompom shakers who look like Burton or costar Sophia Bush, also well beyond her high school years, they’re looking at themselves at wondering why they don’t look like that in their uniform. Here’s the secret: they didn’t when they were 16, either.

Samantha Wilson, Why Teenagers Need to Play Teenagers On Screen (via thunderboltandlightning)

Aka the thesis of my entire tumblr.

(via actualteenadultteen)

(via drunkonbooks)