Miss Frizzle and Mary Poppins, Lady Time Lords.
I ship it to the moon.
The Teacher and The Nanny. The Magic School Bus is a TARDIS, and Mary’s bag is bigger on the inside. No one will ever convince me that this is not true. Oh, and I ship it.
For crying out loud, the Magic School Bus actually does travel through time and space, easily changes it’s form like a Chameleon Circuit, and is casually ALIVE in certain ways. It’s a friggin’ TARDIS in all but name!
I will reblog this every time I see it
There are no other words for this than BRILLIANT!
(Source: thaumivore-moved, via weredyke)
Some academic really needs to revisit films Dutchman (Anthony Harvey, 1967) and If… (Lindsay Anderson, 1968) and write about their meaning and importance with what’s going on right now in terms of violence against POC and gun violence in schools. Putting the two films in conversation with each other would be fascinating. I tried to write a paper about Dutchman & If… for my Baraka & Ginsberg class in college but wasn’t happy with it.
Staging Dutchman, Baraka’s play, right now would be interesting. I think it would be received much differently than it was when it was revived a few years back in New York.
(via Students help Emma Sulkowicz carry mattress to class in first collective carry)
Y E S
IT IS GETTING BETTER
When I first read about this woman’s plan I thought it was a strong idea but I was worried that it was a little bit much for one person, no matter how dedicated, to keep it up for too long, especially since she has, you know, college to commit to. I never thought about how, if other people helped her carry her burden, I never thought about how much it would look like pallbearers with a coffin. Which is simply one of the strongest visual symbols one can use to disturb people in the western world.
you rock it, young feminist protesters. Fuck yeah, I am so proud of you.
Yes, they’re awesome.
But I think there is another part about this I like, too. Notice the burden of that pain is being shared — made lighter by women committed to being here and helping. They can’t fix it, of course but mutual support makes the burden lighter.
No wonder the patriarchy wants us in competition with each other…
i feel so hollow. i am nothing.
"I’m an old man now, and a lonesome man in Kansas
but not afraid
to speak my lonesomeness in a car,
because not only my lonesomeness
it’s Ours, all over America,
O tender fellows—
& spoken lonesomeness is Prophecy
in the moon 100 years ago or in
the middle of Kansas now.
It’s not the vast plains mute our mouths
that fill at midnite with ecstatic language
when our trembling bodies hold each other
breast to breast on a mattress—
Not the empty sky that hides
the feeling from our faces
nor our skirts and trousers that conceal
the bodylove emanating in a glow of beloved skin,
white smooth abdomen down to the hair
between our legs,
It’s not a God that bore us that forbid
our Being, like a sunny rose
all red with naked joy
between our eyes & bellies, yes
All we do is for this frightened thing
we call Love, want and lack—
fear that we aren’t the one whose body could be
beloved of all the brides of Kansas City,
kissed all over by every boy of Wichita—
O but how many in their solitude weep aloud like me—
On the bridge over Republican River
almost in tears to know
how to speak the right language"
"Wichita Vortex Sutra" - Allen Ginsberg
#wichita vortex sutra