Ever wanted to gaze at your big stupid face when you eat a bit of toast? Now you can, with this toaster that places your image on your morning slice of toas
Stop doing everything. Don’t say anything or be anything. Get as small as you possibly can without disappearing. Don’t exist. Or keep existing, but differently than before.
Remember: criticism is the same thing as wholesale condemnation and also murder, so react accordingly.
Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.
Sink into a hole so deep that no one can ever find you.
No. No. No. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no NO. NO.
JUST DIE. JUST GET SICK AND DIE AND THEN YOU’LL FEEL TERRIBLE YOU EVER SAID THOSE THINGS BECAUSE I’LL BE DEAD AND YOU’LL BE SO SO SO SORRY AND YOU’LL WISH YOU COULD BRING ME BACK BUT YOU CAN’T.
Give up on all of your goals immediately.
Tell everyone you know about the criticism, but in a way that makes it clear that you expect them to publicly find it ridiculous and assure you there’s not a shred of truth to it. Do this repeatedly, first while sober, then later after several glasses of wine on a Wednesday afternoon when no one else is really drinking except for you. “Can you believe it?” Ask them that repeatedly. “Can you believe that? About me?” Ask until no one will meet your eyes.
Spit until your throat bleeds.
Remember that life is a rich tapestry.
Become so rich and strong and tall that you’re a giant made out of gold and nobody can hurt you and everything you do is perfect and you can use your laser diamond eyes to melt the lungs of your enemies.
Dwell on it.
You can either be perfect or the biggest piece of shit who ever existed but not both, so if the criticism is right, you are the biggest piece of shit who ever existed. If it is not right, you are perfect and everyone else is wrong.
Fall in love with whoever criticized you. Don’t walk away until you’ve ruined their marriage.
Whisper their criticism every night to yourself until you have it memorized, word for word. Remember it forever. Have the words stitched into the shroud that covers your body before you’re lowered into the tomb so you and your criticism can embrace one another for eternity.
Do not rise above it. Never rise above anything. The sky is no place for a human.
Be sure not to separate the tone of the criticism from the content. If it was said ungracefully, it cannot be true. If it was said reasonably, it cannot be false.
Send an email explaining why you don’t deserve to be criticized, then another six emails after that, each one explaining the last, like a set of Russian nesting dolls that don’t think it’s your fault.
Set fire to something that was once beautiful.
Run into a cave and break your ankle so that people have to come find you and they see you lying at the bottom of this beautiful cave and maybe there’s a waterfall and the light from the crystals makes you look really beautiful and they say “Are you okay?” and you say “I think so” and they say “oh my God have you been here alone this whole time with a broken ankle” and you say “it’s okay” and they say “you’re so brave” and you are brave and you look so beautiful surrounded by cave crystals and everyone stands over you and says “oh wow” and “you poor beautiful thing” and “I’m so sorry we let you run into the cave but I’m so glad we found you” and let them carry you home and promise to be your best friends forever and that everything’s their fault and also they named the cave after you and you’re prettier than all of your enemies and your enemies all died of jealousy while you were in the cave.
Remember that there are only two kinds of people in the world: fans and haters. No true fan would ever express a criticism of you or your work; conversely no hater could ever seek to engage in a good-faith debate about something you said or did they disagree with. Dismiss everything everyone has to say about you.
If it’s a close friend, say “Thank you for being so honest with me,” and then never talk to them again.
Do something with your feelings right away. It doesn’t matter what. Lash out, make a sculpture, whatever.
Log into YouTube and call someone “living Hitler” and “a waste of skin” until you feel better about yourself.
Remember, if someone doesn’t like your work, that means they don’t like you, and they wish that you had never been born, so just lay down in the road and die.
Brilliant. How to respond to criticism:
Use this to combat pro-life “statistics” (aka, statistics pulled out of a random donkey’s hiney).
The new record from the incomparable Steve Smyth. “Love is your life dancing”
A three step strategy toolbox
whats up with feminism suddenly being this seasons hottest accessory??? first, feminism has always been cool, regardless of being “in style” or not. second, i really hope it doesn’t turn out like other trends and go “out of style” or something stupid like that … feminism is…
In defending the NSA’s telephony metadata collection efforts, government officials have repeatedly resorted to one seemingly significant detail: This is just metadata—numbers dialed, lengths of calls. “There are no names, there’s no content in that database,” President Barack Obama told Charlie Rose in June.
No names; just metadata.
New research from Stanford demonstrates the silliness of that distinction. Armed with very sparse metadata, Jonathan Mayer and Patrick Mutchler found it easy—trivially so—to figure out the identity of a caller.
Mayer and Mutchler are running an experiment which works with volunteers who agree to use an Android app, MetaPhone, that allows the researchers access to their metadata. Now, using that data, Mayer and Mutchler say that it was hardly any trouble at all to figure out who the phone numbers belonged to, and they did it in just a few hours.
Read more. [Image: Reuters]
For years, she was known to the public as the Bloomingdale Library rape victim.
Then, in 2011, her family asked she be called the Bloomingdale Library rape survivor.
Now, she wants people to just call her Queena.
On the night of April 24, 2008, when Queena went to the Bloomingdale Library to return books, she was raped, beaten and left to die. She was 18, about to graduate high school and getting ready to attend the University of Florida on a full scholarship. Her attacker, Kendrick Morris, now 21, was convicted in May 2011 and is serving a 65-year state prison sentence.
Since then, her family and the community have held fundraisers and 5K races to raise money for her treatment, never revealing her name or showing her face.
On Saturday, the family will launch a new website, JoinQueena.com. The site documents Queena’s life and recovery. It features updates on her progress from her doctors, therapists and her family, photos and a link to donate through PayPal.
The family wanted a way for the public to help Queena, now turning 23, without having to write a check or go to a bank, her mother Vanna, 50, said.
But they wanted a better name for the website than “Bloomingdale Survivor.” Friends offered suggestions like “My Angel” or “Living Angel.” Queena would make a face, with her mouth in the shape of an O, to indicate no, she didn’t like those.
Her sister, Anna, 26, asked her: Did she just want Queena.com? Her face lit up with a smile, Vanna said. They asked her over and over, are you sure you want to use your real name?
She was sure. She wants to be an inspiration, her sister said, not a victim. They decided on JoinQueena.com.
At the request of the family, and because of the nature of the crime, last names are being withheld by the Tampa Bay Times.
The attack left Queena unable to walk, talk, see or eat on her own. She lives at home southeast of Tampa with her mother, who cares for her full time. But she has made some progress, Anna said.
Queena eats pureed foods, can form some syllables and can stand for periods of time with little assistance, Anna said. She has taken a few steps with the help of therapists and is tracking objects with her eyes better.
Her therapies include speech, physical and occupational, aquatic, yoga, neuro-stimulating treatments, acupuncture, massage and music.
Medicaid covers $1,500 per year for speech and physical therapy. But it costs the family about $70,000 a year for all of Queena’s therapies and medical supplies.
Queena has different therapy sessions each week in St. Petersburg, Palm Harbor, Valrico and Sun City Center. Her mother drives her, and the cost for gas adds up.
The family relies on donations to a fund for Queena through the Bank of Tampa and SunTrust. In the first three years after the attack, donations poured in. People still donate, but every year donations are fewer and fewer, Vanna said. She’s concerned about the fund running dry.
She’s worried about bankruptcy. She’s worried they’ll have to cut back therapies, that she won’t be able to take Queena out as much. When they go out, people talk to Queena and she listens to everyone around her. It’s good for her, Vanna says, because it stimulates her brain.
"I get afraid," she said.
In addition to the website launch, Queena will attend a 23rd birthday celebration her family is holding for her at 1 p.m. Saturday at Keel and Curley Winery in Plant City, with a prayer vigil at 2 p.m.
"Every time her birthday rolls around, we are all reminded of how precious life is," Anna said. "To see the community come together every year, it is very heartwarming and gives the family that extra comfort and motivation to keep pushing forward."
On Wednesday, Queena lay in a hospital bed in her blue room at home, where her physical therapist comes for the day’s session. Her therapy dog, Charlie, a little white Shih Tzu adopted from county Animal Services last year, waits for her in another room. Medical supplies share the shelves with stuffed animals and Gators memorabilia. The therapist works with Queena while her home health aide looks on. He works on her leg muscles while she’s lying down. He props small inflatable balls under her legs and has her push against his hands with her foot.
They slowly help her up so her arms are resting on balls on either side of her. The therapist tells her to look straight ahead. When she’s sitting up, he’ll let go of her for seconds at a time to work on sitting up on her own. He’ll ask if she’s doing okay. She makes a noise to tell him she’s all right.
Paula McDonald of Wimauma helped put together the website. She got to know Queena’s family when her daughter, Kendall, was a senior at East Bay High School last year. Kendall and other students at East Bay, which Queena had attended, helped organize a 5K fundraiser, and McDonald offered to help the family any way she could.
McDonald works in design and communications, and in November got in touch with Full Media, an Internet marketing company in Georgia she had worked with before, to get some tips on how to set up Queena’s website. The company ended up offering to create the site for the family.
"They really stepped up to the plate," McDonald said. "They were really interested in Queena’s story and helping with the website."
McDonald admires the family’s sense of strength and forgiveness, she said.
"For me as a parent, it hits close to home," she said. "Parents of teenage daughters, especially, you never hope to find yourself in that situation."
As kids, Queena and Anna were inseparable, Anna said. Their mother worked a lot, and Anna babysat her sister.
"We played together, slept in bunk beds, took the bus together, went to sleepovers together, crossed the street together," she said. "We were opposites, but we rarely fought."
Her sister was “Miss Bossy,” Anna said. “She cracked me up all the time, and still does. She has a cute, klutzy personality and it’s hard not to laugh at her nonsense.”
Like the time, just after getting her driver’s license, Queena drove her sister to the mall for the first time. She pulled into a parking spot, got out, shut the door, then realized the keys were still in the car. And the car was still running.
"She is the best, most supportive and fun sister I could have ever asked for," Anna said.
Anna has lived with Queena and their mother for the past five years to help with Queena’s care. She’s moving soon, to a house about 15 minutes away. Queena has already staked claim on her bedroom for when she visits.
Queena’s journey has put life into perspective, Anna said.
"It’s almost impossible to have a bad day when I think of everything that she has gone through and the resilience that she shows," Anna said. "Life is about family and community and doing the best you can to positively influence those around you."
I wish more people would reblog instead of just liking this post since her family is struggling financially. They’re constantly having to host fundraisers to pay for her medical bills.
Just to remind everyone of how gruesome this case was, in addition to being sexually assaulted, the perpetrator "[Kendrick] Morris beat [Queena] so badly, he broke her nose and fractured her skull. She can no longer see, walk or talk."
Finally: a reason to look at billboards again.
We just hope you’re not in the car while you’re doing it. British Airways has erected a digital billboard in Piccadilly Circus in which a captivated child leaps from his perch and encourages you, too, to #lookup when an actual plane flies overhead. The billboard wraps nicely by identifying the flight, where it’s come from or where it’s headed.
We don’t get to say this everyday (or ever), but that’s some goddamn masterful outdoor.
New BA ad: “We don’t get to say this everyday (or ever), but that’s some goddamn masterful outdoor”