"

"Back in the day, Walter would, every once in a while, forget how to draw. Remember?" Louise said.

“Oh yeah,” Walter agreed. “That still happens occasionally. It’s like, ‘Oh my god, nothing I’m drawing looks any good anymore. My life is over as an artist.’ And what I realized, because I was an editor at the time, and had seen a lot of work go past me, was that when you hit this phase where suddenly your stuff, which looks just like it did yesterday, doesn’t look good to you anymore, it’s because your mind has made a leap. Your brain has gotten farther than your hand has learned to do it yet. But eventually, give it a few weeks, keep it up and you’ve made a leap in your own craft. That was a big help because it was so depressing when you realize you couldn’t draw anymore.”

"

From an interview with Walt and Louise Simonson. (via twiststreet)

Exactly this. 

(via mckelvie)


Wow. Well, there’s one game-changing thought technology.

Damn.

(via merlin)

(via seananmcguire)

"A white college student from a private college goes into a poor neighborhood and volunteers four hours a week and that’s considered exemplary. [Whereas] a poor kid who lives in that community and takes care of all the kids in that neighborhood four hours every day is not seen as a volunteer."

— Patricia Hill Collins (via ethiopienne)

Lookin’ at you, Teach For America. (via chronicallyqueer)

(Source: sampaguitagirl, via seananmcguire)

needstosortoutpriorities:

gailsimone:

Falcon!

FALCON!
roachpatrol:

fairy-wren:

Prairie Chicken Portrait (by Jeff Dyck)

do you ever just sit and think about how utterly beautiful and absurd dinosaurs must have looked

roachpatrol:

fairy-wren:

Prairie Chicken Portrait (by Jeff Dyck)

do you ever just sit and think about how utterly beautiful and absurd dinosaurs must have looked

(via forgetgutenberg)

"In 1979, when the minimum wage was $2.90, a hard-working student with a minimum-wage job could earn enough in one day (8.44 hours) to pay for one academic credit hour. If a standard course load for one semester consisted of maybe 12 credit hours, the semester’s tuition could be covered by just over two weeks of full-time minimum wage work—or a month of part-time work. A summer spent scooping ice cream or flipping burgers could pay for an MSU education. The cost of an MSU credit hour has multiplied since 1979. So has the federal minimum wage. But today, it takes 60 hours of minimum-wage work to pay off a single credit hour, which was priced at $428.75 for the fall semester."

The Myth of Working Your Way Through College - Svati Kirsten Narula - The Atlantic (via infoneer-pulse)

(via hellotailor)

typhoidmeri said: Who do you think was the first person Steve Rick Rolled?

minim-calibre:

jenny-1981:

darthstitch:

typewriterchan:

kisleth:

typhoidmeri:

dopemixtape:

typhoidmeri:

dopemixtape:

Steve discovers Roll Rolling one night while working through the list of music recommendations Sam and Natasha had given him.  At first he thinks it’s a random ad popping up in the middle of the music video. Then he reads the comments. Nearly every one involves swearing and the term ‘Rick Roll’d.’ Google, as always, is unbelievably helpful and Steve laughs out loud to himself upon reading the Wiki page.  

Sam is first.

Steve:  Otis Redding is terrific - thanks for the recommendation. Found one you might like. Let me know what you think.

He pastes the link into the text before hitting send. He smirks and waits.

Sam:  Steve Rogers, you Rick Rollin’ sonofabitch! Dammit, man. Who knew Captain America was such a troll?

Steve’s sharp bark of laughter echoes off the walls.  

Steve: On your left

Sam:  You’re an asshole

Sam:  Fifty bucks says you can’t get everyone else

Steve:  I won’t feel bad taking your money, you know?

Sam:  That’s why you’re an asshole.

image

IDEK you guise.

Steve: Hey, Clint, thanks for the movie recommendations. Pretty in Pink was great. I liked this one too.

Steve carefully pastes the link in and presses send without a moment of regret. He tosses his phone on the counter and opens the fridge. Halfway through making a pile of sandwiches his phone vibrates on the counter. 

Clint: WTF?

Clint: U rick rolled me.

Steve: Sorry, pal.

Clint: UR an asshole. >:( 

Steve snorts and screencaps the texts. 

Steve: one down.

He attaches the picture and sends it to Sam, laughing to himself as he pulls a carton of milk from the fridge. 

Sam: Why am I friends with you?

Steve: My senior citizen’s discount. 

Natasha doesn’t reply. Steve hasn’t heard anything from her in three days, so he assumes she’s off somewhere on the other side of the world kicking ass and taking names.

He’s walking back to his place one night with a couple of large pizzas, listening to the 60s mix Sam made for him when a little blur of red and black lunges at him from the shadows. His attacker sweeps his legs out from under him and knocks him to the ground. He’s prepared to spring to the defense when he sees it’s Natasha. Steve’s laugh is cut short when she presses a pointed heel against his throat. “Dammit, Nat! You made me drop my pizzas. What the hell?” 

She presses her heel a fraction closer and breathing becomes difficult.

Natasha eyes him coolly with her arms crossed against her chest.  ”I’ve had motherfucking Rick Astley in my head for three days now, you little shithead.”

Steve snorts and immediately regrets it. 

Natasha kicks him in the ribs before offering a hand to help him off the ground.

"Share your pizza and let’s figure out how you’re going to get Stark." 

image

(Natasha is having exactly none of your shit, Steve.)

Despite what Tony thinks, Thor has no trouble with Midgardian technology. Humor, yes, but technology no. Steve sends Thor an email, swipes his iPod off the desk and goes out for a run, listening to the 70s mix Sam made him.

unknown number: I hate you.

Steve: Excuse me, I think you have the wrong number.

unknown number: I have the right number, Captain Rogers. Thor has not stopped singing all day.

Steve: I’m sorry, Dr. Foster.

Dr. Foster: No, you’re not. ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

No, he really wasn’t.

….

Steve finds an acoustic version, heavy on the sitar, of Rick Astley’s notorious hit and asks JARVIS to play it the next time Bruce plays his tea time music.

Two days later they learn that Hulk can’t sing but he can hum.  Rather soulfully, he thinks as he sends a video clip to Sam.

Sam: You fucker, Rogers.

Steve: Five down. One to go.

Sam: Good luck with that one, asshole.

Steve: Better have my money ready, Wilson.

image            (Thor enjoys Midgardian folk tales sung in chanted verse)

Tony is the hardest by far. Steve brings pizza and vodka with him when he visits Natasha, and Clint is there too as a happy accident. He bounces ideas off them and everything he can think of just isn’t enough. They break for the night and he retires to his apartment.

He almost considers giving in to Sam when Tony gives him the answer unknowingly.

Steve is sitting on one of the stools in Tony’s workshop, drawing the Suit (which Tony was tickled over), when DUM-E beeps and nudges his arm. Steve grins and takes the washer they’d been using for ‘fetch’ while Tony mutters to himself and looks over the damage Steve’s body armor had sustained. 

(“It’s impossible!” He’d wailed, looking at the large gashes in the fabric.

"Tell that to my stomach," Steve had replied from the hospital bed where his skin slowly stitched itself back together under the bandages.)

"Hey, Tony." Steve lightly tosses the washer like an extra-small frisbee across the workshop. "Is DUM-E limited to just beeps?"

"No, he has proper speakers, he just refuses to use them for anything else. He doesn’t have the AI functionality of JARVIS. He’s like a baby. A really old baby. Or the mute eldest brother."

Steve smiles brightly when DUM-E comes back with the washer.

——

It’s really easy to get the song onto his iPod.

——

It’s almost easier to get the iPod hooked up to DUM-E and get him to push the ‘play’ button once Tony had settled in.

——

The entire team watches through the (thankfully soundproof) glass wall as Tony shouts and chases DUM-E around his workshop.

Steve: Did it.

Sam: Pics or it didn’t happen.

Steve steps into the workshop and records the song playing as DUM-E zips around, Tony chasing him. It sends it to Sam who doesn’t reply for ten minutes.

Sam: I’m paying you in beer. BECAUSE you can’t get drunk. Asshole.

Steve: That’s Captain Asshole to you.

BEST ENDING OF ALL TIME AMG

Slaps this onto blog.

This is the greatest thing ever to exist

Amen.

papercollectiveshop:

Got bored. Made a thing. I think it’s hilarious, which is good enough.
(KMFDM lyric; gouache on paper)

papercollectiveshop:

Got bored. Made a thing. I think it’s hilarious, which is good enough.

(KMFDM lyric; gouache on paper)

boysinperil:

My ot3 is so so canon. GREAT video. 

(via agentpantybunches)