Tag: accurate

h-oney-b-ones:

intheicyairofnight:

kittykat8311:

uppityfemale:

I say this every time I argue for raising the minimum wage. I never hear anyone else say it and I’m glad I found this.

If you build your business and your bonus on the backs of others who you don’t pay a living wage you don’t deserve to be in business.

this is making capitalists bleed from the ears keep reblogging it

Since I tend to get into this with people who argue that robots will replace minimum wage workers if they get too expensive, I like to lean into the robot metaphor.

If you have a machine performing a valuable talk for your company, the upkeep of that machine is part of your operating cost. You have to pay to power it, to upgrade it, to fix it when it breaks. And if you can’t afford the machine, the manufacturer doesn’t have to do business with you. They’re free to take their service somewhere else where they think the price is fair.

For humans, a living wage is the operating cost. If you can’t afford to pay your worker enough to live nearby, feed themselves, and get basic health care – all of which are things they need in order to be able to work for you – you’re failing to pay for the cost of their service. 

The difference is that humans have to eat, like, all the time, so they often don’t have the option of taking their business somewhere else if the price isn’t fair – even insufficient food and shelter is better then starving on the street. But that means those people are not really able to act as agents in a free market, and it’s easy to exploit them under the guise of “the market setting the price.” People can’t act like reasonable economic agents when they’re desperate. As for as I can tell, that’s the whole point of having a minimum wage. 

Keep reblogging this, it’s making capitalists mad and reaching out to the working class

the signs as hockey goalies

Aries : The goalie who always tries to start fights
Taurus : The backup goalie who spends his game singing “That Should Be Me”
Gemini : The loud goalie who always sings the national anthem even though they suck and annoys the whole team
Cancer : The bad goalie who plays in an elite team so no one notices they’re awful
Leo : The goalie who gets absolutely trashed before games and ends up falling in their own crease like twelve times
Virgo : The rookie goalie who cries in the shower after every loss
Libra : The goalie who doesn’t give a shit and literally just sits in the crease the whole game
Scorpio : The goalie who spits on the ice every ten seconds
Sagittarius : The goalies who’s obsessed with Instagram and takes pictures of his setup every week
Capricorn : The goalie with a thousand superstitions
Aquarius : The goalie who just /knows/ they’re good and winks at the rival team after every save like a cocky piece of shit.
Pisces : The weird, quiet goalie who probably has already killed a man but they’re good so no one says a thing.

weavemama:

lmao @ people saying “this is not america!!” because this IS america….. this country was literally built off of racism, genocide, and slavery so of course the hatred is gonna continue. stop trying to absolve america of its racially charged atrocities and hold it accountable for being oppressive to minorities since the dawn of its civilization 

dajo42:

scienceandfandoms:

dajo42:

my favourite thing about being super unemployed is applying for jobs that i simply have no place doing at all. like., its 5am and im applying to be an air traffic controller because in theory i guess i could

listen, if the president of the united states can apply for a job he has absolutely no qualifications for and get it I see no reason why you shouldn’t at least try

well fuck, you’re not wrong

is it bad that I find this at least a bit inspiring

Fanfic Author Gothic

bibliotecaria-d:

-You always have ideas. When you open a document, they disappear.

-You have a file full of ideas. It is lost. You open all your files and find hints of ideas mixed in between the lines. None of them connect. You follow them forever, deeper into the folders, until you can’t remember what you were looking for anymore. You end up reading fanfic until 4 AM.

-You’re not a torturer by profession. It’s merely a hobby. The sadism is a natural skill.

-Your fingers and wrists hurt from typing when you’re on a roll. You swear you’re not a masochist, but it hurts so good.

-Readers accuse you of causing them pain. You say you’re sorry, but you’re not. You comfort them while not-so-subtly digging for what caused them the most harm, eager to repeat the trick.

-Your friends enable you and laugh at your yelling. When you blame them, they claim they didn’t do anything. They never do anything. You no longer remember who started it, only that you’re halfway through the fic and still writing.

-You have a WIP. You swear you’re going to finish it next. It’s always next. There’s always another fic that has to be written first.

-Anonymous messages are sent to you, asking you not to acknowledge them publically. You know if you answer they’ll disappear from your inbox. Tumblr has eaten the Ask. Was it ever there in the first place?

-Someone comments on your fic. You have no idea who they are, but their username looks familiar. Every username looks familiar. You think you know them. They know you. It’s flattering, but you can’t shake the feeling that you should be alarmed by your poor memory.

-You reblog a writing prompt meme. It’s the same meme you reblogged yesterday. There are symbols instead of numbers, and you hope people will find them more interesting and send you more prompts this time.

-Promoting your own work is okay. You tell yourself this as you reblog yesterday’s fic post, tensely waiting for a rebuke that never comes.

-People laugh at something you wrote. You can’t figure out what. When you ask, nobody responds. They never laughed in the first place. You’re not sure you wrote anything.

-The fic is 50 hours long and 7000 words long; no one cares. A 10 minute speedwrite is reblogged into eternity.

-The kudos stack up. They are a solid block of names. You can’t read who left them. When you blink and look again, only 10 Guests have left kudos.

-Your inbox is full. There’s a comment on your fic. It has been edited 17 times. Six more emails come in as you read the initial comment. The numbers in your inbox climb and climb. You can’t find what’s been changed in the comment, but you can’t stop obsessively comparing each message.

-This comment is a book report. Glee and fear fill you in equal amounts.

-Someone apologizes for leaving a comment on an old fic. You can’t find who started the absurd rumor that authors don’t like comments on old fics. You plan their murder anyway.

-You eye your old username and associated fics. You pray that no one ever finds them. You resist the urge to tell people where to look.

-The fic is finished. You are dead. You are sick of it. You’ve never been so tired in your life. You hate the world. You force yourself to post it, absolutely exhausted, and suddenly can’t sleep for refreshing your inbox.

-The words multiply. You can’t control them. They eat your brain and come out your eyes. When people try to talk to you, you speak in snatches of character dialogue and narrate unconnected events. They keep talking to you, encouraging you to say more. The words own you now.

-No one believes you when you say the story is writing itself. You stare in despair at the screen. Why won’t anyone help you?

-You’ve misspelled ‘the.’ Autocorrect is wonderful until it’s not.

-Sleep is for the weak. You dream you’re still writing.

prokopetz:

Degrees of secondhand fandom:

  • I don’t watch/read/listen to it, but I follow the summaries on the wiki
  • I rarely pursue information about it, but I have enough incidental contact with the core fandom that I’ve picked it up via osmosis
  • I strive to avoid it, but I’ve been indoctrinated against my will by the fucking memes
  • I can cite the canon chapter and verse, but I have no recollection of how or why I acquired this knowledge, and that concerns me