"The biggest scare of the first season wasn’t a gory corpse display—though we got lots of those—but the revelation that Will had encephalitis, and Hannibal was preventing him from getting treatment. The primal fear here isn’t axe-murder, it’s abandonment; all the blood in the world can’t scare us more profoundly than the idea that the people who care about us may be faking it."
Sady Doyle, ”Hannibal’s Feminist Horror.” (x)
The last sentence hit me in the gut and perfectly sums up exactly why I love this show so much.
(Source: paintitback, via buckthewintersoldier)
"In the end, Captain America does not make the heroic sacrifice, thus further proving that Black Widow can handle the emotional weight of being a lead character. As if anyone could really forget the most quoted line in “The Avengers” — “I’ve got red in my ledger; I’d like to wipe it out” — it helps to have that line fresh in your mind when deconstructing what Widow does in the final act of what’s billed as a Captain America movie. Black Widow doesn’t wipe out the red in her ledger. No, she blasts her ledger out to the world, like it was the grisliest email forward of all time. We know from here heart to heart with Hawkeye that the shame she feels about what she’s done is real, and she hesitates when she realizes that taking down the bad guys means revealing her secrets. But she does it anyway, because she’s not just a spy anymore; she’s a super hero, and she makes a super hero’s sacrifice."
"CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER" PROVES BLACK WIDOW’S READY TO GO SOLO
I didn’t even think about it at the time but yeah, Natasha being the one to reveal SHIELDS, and her own, secrets probably took more courage and self sacrifice for her than carjacking an alien in the middle of a galactic sized batte.
"Hemingway and James Joyce were drinking buddies in Paris. Joyce was thin and bespectacled; Hemingway was tall and strapping. When they went out Joyce would get drunk, pick a fight with a bigger guy in the bar and then hide behind Hemingway and yell, “Deal with him, Hemingway. Deal with him.”"
[x] (via newzerokaneda)
Between this and the story about him reassuring F. Scott Fitzgerald re dick size, I’m developing a picture of Hemingway as the mother hen of the disaffected white male literary set of the early 20th century.
He probably called up Steinbeck sometimes and was like I CAN’T EVEN WITH THESE DIPSHITS and Steinbeck was all “That’s what you get for living in Paris, asshole”.
victor frankenstein is like the epitome of male douchebaggery like his creation comes back to him speaking french and quoting paradise lost and his reaction is literally ‘lol no uggo’
"Nor will I tolerate the continuing assumption that they [men] know more about women than we know about ourselves."
— Andrea Dworkin, Intercourse (preface 1995)
(Source: mrasarescaredofwomen, via muchanimal-veryfeminism-wow)