August 13th was officially the 10th year anniversary of Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, so I felt like it was time to do some fanart.
So here’s 18 year-old Mac picking up Bloo after school to hang out.
10TH YEAR ANNIVERSARY???
A silent protest in Love Park, downtown Philadelphia orchestrated by performance artists protesting the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson. The onslaught of passerby’s wanting to take photos with the statue exemplifies the disconnect in American society. Simply frame out the dead body, and it doesn’t exist.
Here are some observations by one of the artists involved in the event:
I don’t know who any of these folks are.
They were tourists I presume.
But I heard most of what everything they said. A few lines in particular stood out. There’s one guy not featured in the photos. His friends were trying to get him to join the picture but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body.
"Something about this doesn’t feel right. I’m going to sit this one out, guys." "Com’on man… he’s already dead."
There were a billion little quips I heard today. Some broke my heart. Some restored my faith in humanity. There was an older white couple who wanted to take a picture under the statue.
The older gentleman: “Why do they have to always have to shove their politics down our throats.” Older woman: “They’re black kids, honey. They don’t have anything better to do.”
One woman even stepped over the body to get her picture. But as luck would have it the wind blew the caution tape and it got tangle around her foot. She had to stop and take the tape off. She still took her photo.
There was a guy who yelled at us… “We need more dead like them. Yay for the white man!”
"One young guy just cried and then gave me a hug and said ‘thank you. It’s nice to know SOMEBODY sees me.’
I’m just gonna keep reblogging this because this is truly how white America works. Like people have their weddings on plantations, Blackface was and still is a major source of entertainment and the biggest movie of all time was Gone With the Wind. White America will kill Black people and then smile and laugh and enjoy their day it sickens me that we’re treated this way.
IF YOU HIT “X+C” IT SHUTS OFF EVERY GIF ON YOUR DASH
EVERY SINGLE ONE TURNS TO A LITTLE GREY BOX WITH A LOCK
TUMBLR HAS MADE ITSELF SAFE FOR EPILEPTICS
PASS IT ON
I BRING FORTH THIS KNOWLEDGE TO ANY FELLOW TUMBLRITES/SEIZURE-PRONE PEOPLE THAT MAY FOLLOW ME
KINDLY THANK THE OP FOR THIS KNOWLEDGE
I AM A HUMBLE MESSENGER
White dude in St. Louis named Kevin Miner was wanted for burglary.
He eluded police officers until they conducted a search of a resident’s home and found him.
He attacked both officers, breaking one cop’s hand. The media even alludes to Miner being forced to “fight back” against the police because of how he was being apprehended!
Miraculously, the cops managed not to punch him in the face repeatedly, put him in a chokehold, or shoot him six times including once in the face and once in the head.
He, in fact, barely had a scratch on him.
The next time someone says to you:
"BUT IT’S NOT ABOUT RACE (Patent Pending)!"
Throw your tea dead in their face Dominique Deveraux-style and pump on away from them like Naomi Campbell.
a quick and sloppy tutorial on drawing profiles for the anon who requested it. hope this helps some people!
but now much you wanna bet that pics of them getting milk from mcdonalds will start circulating. imagine the racist comments. like imagine
breaking windows to steal the milk, even if used to clear the tear gas out of their eyes, is wrong.
we have reached peak cracker
Love is not who you were expecting.
Love is not what you can predict.
Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep.
You are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe love is always in the wrong timezone.
Maybe love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for love.
Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce.
Love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remember.
Maybe love is only there for a month.
Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays.
Maybe love can’t.
Maybe love shouldn’t.
"From 2006 to 2012, a white police officer killed a black person at least twice a week in this country." - MHP