- when james potter is awake he is awake to Do Stuff. he wakes up in the morning and springs out of bed and plans all of his great pranks for the day and is a general pain in the ass to literally everyone before 10 am but BUT if anything keeps him up past his bed time james potter turns into a massive whiny baby
- sirius wakes up in the morning angry and can never go back to sleep once he’s up. it’s just how he functions. he has a personal vendetta against the sun, noises, friends, breakfast, clothes, stairs, strangers, teachers, house elves, sassy paintings, stairs that move (STAIRS THAT MOVE), basically anything that isn’t his bed. if you encounter sirius black any time before lunch he’s guaranteed to be a massive huge butt. conversely at night time he’s the cuddliest motherfucker known to man sirius black will make it his personal mission to fall asleep on you and you’ll like it, god dammit.
- remus wakes up very, very, very slowly. it takes a million years to get him out of bed and a hundred more to actually get him into clothes. he has to wake up a full thirty minutes before his friends just because it takes so god damn long to actually wake up. he goes about the first hour or so of his day really bleary-eyed, he bumps into stuff, leans heavily on an irate sirius at the breakfast table like he’s going to actually take a nap on him, and his worst marks are consecutively, every year, in his early-morning classes.
- peter doesn’t do sleepy. when peter is awake peter is a functioning human being. when it’s bed time you couldn’t get him to wake up with a bloody air-raid siren. peter is basically a machine. honestly his friends are a little concerned that he’s narcoleptic? like one minute he’s just awake and talking and holding a conversation and the next minute he’s just fucking out (“pete, pete, did you hear what moony said? did you—” “I’m pretty sure he’s asleep, mate,” “HE’S SITTING UP”) but he always wakes up refreshed and ready to go it’s uncanny.
[Sarah] Frankcom said [Maxine] Peake’s Hamlet would be “a combination of male and female.”
"We’ve looked at gender as a spectrum rather than something that is either male or female," she said. "Hamlet occupies different parts of that spectrum at different parts of the play.""
Angels in America | Millennium Approaches - Chapter One: Bad News
If you feel helpless, there are ways you can channel your rage and sadness in real life.
1. Join a peaceful protest.
They’re happening all around the country tonight, including at the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, around 7 p.m. Eastern.
2. Recognize that Michael Brown’s death was not an isolated incident.
In 2012, more than 300 black people were executed by police, security guards, or vigilantes. In the last month, three other unarmed African-American men—Eric Garner in New York, John Crawford III in Beavercreek, Ohio, and Ezell Ford in Los Angeles—have been killed by police. Those are the ones we know about.
3. Stop saying “This can’t be happening in America.”
I understand the impulse, I really do. But that impulse only comes to those who are insulated and isolated from how America treats poor people and people of color every day. Langston Hughes wrote “America never was America to me” in 1935. If you didn’t quite understand that poem in your junior high or high-school lit classes, read it again, while you think about what’s happening in Ferguson. Let it sink in.
4. STFU about looting.
And call out your friends and family members who won’t. It’s been five days since Michael Brown was murdered. On one of those days, some furious, grieving citizens caused some property damage. Nine have been arrested. Every other day since then, police with more gear than American soldiers going into battle have been occupying the neighborhood where Brown died, attacking peaceful protestors with tear gas and rubber bullets. They’ve tear-gassed a state senator and Al-Jazeera reporters, and arrested an alderman. They’ve demanded that reporters leave the area and arrested two who didn’t move fast enough. “Disproportionate” doesn’t begin to describe it. If you look at all that and still think it’s important to talk about looting for “balance,” you should know that you sound like a racist asshole.
5. Look Around You.
If you live in an urban environment, you’re in a position to bear witness and document inappropriate and abusive police behavior. If you see an African-American neighbor being detained by police, wait to see what happens. Get your phone out. Download the ACLU’s “Police Tape” app, and if you see something that looks off, take a video that will upload directly to their servers, in case your phone is confiscated. Whatever police may tell you, this is your legal right.
7. Educate yourself about the systematic inequality that leads to civil unrest.
The St. Louis American ran a powerful editorial today that fleshes out the history of Ferguson. When you finish reading that, go somewhere quiet for a bit and settle down with Ta-Nehisi Coates’s “The Case for Reparations.” Don’t stop there.
8. Put pressure on your elected representatives.
Institutional abuse of African-American citizens is happening all over the country, and it demands a federal response. Talk to your senators and congresspeople about enacting policies to protect citizens from their protectors. While you’re at it, maybe suggest they work to limit the amount of military weaponry police can inherit from the armed forces.
9. Listen to your African-American friends when they try to tell you why this hurts.
If you don’t have any African-American friends, you might want to think about why that is.
10. Okay, go ahead and tweet.
And Facebook. Tumblr. Instagram. Vine. Amplify the voices of people on the ground, and help counteract the damaging narratives being propagated by some mainstream media organizations. It’s the very least we can do.
For white people wanting to know what they can do to help.
Need all my white friends to get into this.
people who are so fucking set in their ways and unable to even consider that there might be other opinions are the worst
especially when they call themselves liberal
Dascha Polanco attends the 66th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards held at Nokia Theatre L.A. Live on August 25, 2014 in Los Angeles, California.
We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.
So there’s this.
How is this not a crime? Obstruction of justice? Tampering? Hell, a violation of Son of Sam laws?
Burn the whole damned city down, starting with City Hall and the police station.
It’s a conflict of interest, at bare fucking minimum, and he should be forced to recuse himself.
*melts like Iain’s baked alaska*
Too soon? :p
'Well, “Pride” tells the true story of an alliance between Welsh miners and a group called “LGSM” which is Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners, a group of very young, gay people at the gay pride march which, as you can imagine, in 1984, was a different pride march than we have, and they sent money down to these… this small Welsh mining village to help them out, and they formed an alliance together that still lasts to this day, and it’s a true story… and we’re all unbelievably proud of it. It premiered at Cannes there and it went down an absolute storm.'
Andrew talking about ‘Pride’ on ‘Lorraine’ (x)
i’m so glad about this holy shit it made me laugh so hard at work, im going over the three sentencel imit, idc.
sirius squints at the driver in the car through the drive thru window and frowns; he is holding a bag with three tacos, a nacho bellgrande, two caramel apple empanadas, and a crunchwrap supreme, so he asks, unabashedly, “all of this is yours?”
"um," the driver says. his hair is curly and messy and when the wind blows, suddenly, sirius can smell the leftovers of the joint that was just finished, and understands, so the driver merely continues, "can i get, uh, fire sauce - like as much as you can give me - like so much that - just, a lot."
"oh my god," sirius says, laughing. "i - yes, okay. a lot." he turns away, and finds that when he’s gathered what by his definition is ‘a lot’ of sauce, the guy in the car is still staring at him. "so uh - are you okay?"
"how long is your hair?" is the abrupt reply, causing sirius to instinctively reach up and make sure his hat it on straight and his bun hasn’t fallen.
"oh - i don’t know? long?" this is the most bizarre conversation. the headset is still beeping in his ear and he ignores it.
"i like it."
"i’m wearing a hat," sirius says with a snort. "here is your food - " sirius hands him one bag, which the other guy takes " - and your sauce."
"wait!" the driver says, loud enough that sirius is startled, and puts a hand on his wrist still in the process of trying to give this poor stoned child his sauce. "i really like it. my name is remus. like - it looks good, in the bun."
sirius’s lips curl into a half smile, and he leans a little further out the window. remus’s hand on his wrist is warm and his fingers are calloused. “are you trying to hit on me in a drive through, remus?”
"i - yes, probably."
"well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it," sirius replies, cheerfully. "take your sauce and come back round in an hour and try again, hm?"
and so remus does.
((why is this happenign to me, why did i do this))