Mass Distraction: tbh one of the worst things about having friends online Mass Distraction: is that Mass Distraction: we cant spontaneously burst into snog Mass Distraction: oMDG Mass Distraction: SONG Mass Distraction: OMFONGJ Mass Distraction: IT SUCKS THAT WE CAN SPONTANEOUSLY BURST IN SNOG Jason: that too Mass Distraction: ily typos
I was going to buy Divergent and then I saw this review
LMAO
LMFAO this review is true. It’s so true. Divergent was awful.
This review is true and accurate as far as it goes, but I really, really think it’s worth mentioning that people in Erudite who don’t need glasses still wear glasses anyway because it makes them look smart. Also, people in Erudite are not allowed to keep pets or make visual art because it is “illogical” to do so. Besides punching each other and jumping onto and off of moving trains, other activities which people in Dauntless use to show the bravery include getting tattoos, wearing black clothing, and running in the stairwell.
AND IN HIS LAND, HIS APARTMENT IS THE ONLY BUILDING AROUND
holy shit
fucK
Okay cool but what does it mean.
IT MEANS THAT DIRK WAS PHYSICALLY ALONE BUT STILL FELT SURROUNDED BY HIS FRIENDS AND DAVE WAS SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE BUT STILL FELT ALONE
thanks satan
Possibly, but lands are meant to challenge people by focusing on their weakness, like how Rose’s land was full of light, because she was a dark person, who had to learn to trust the light instead of the shady horrorterrors. Each land is supposed to take a character out of their comfort zone
Dirk’s land is full of buildings because that’s where he feels most uncomfortable. Dave’s building is alone because he feels most uncomfortable when he’s alone. So what it means is that Dirk feels claustrophobic around people, and Dave is afraid of being alone
We live in a world where it’s more acceptable to dislike yourself and openly say “I am ugly” rather than actually appreciate yourself and openly say “I am attractive” because how dare you feel good in your skin and say it out loud, what an awful human being you are, you can’t walk around thinking you’re good, you piece of shit.
As an intern for Marvel in the late 70’s, racist jokes were routinely, as in every day, thrown my way. By white intellectuals, By people who did not regard themselves as racist and did not regard their remarks as racist simply by virtue of the fact they were the ones making them. Marv Wolfman routinely had me making multiple xeroxes of Gene Colan’s gorgeous pencils for TOMB OF DRACULA, and, after a few passes, the pencil graphite would be all over my hands. Several staffers, some who are still in the Marvel offices today, would pick my hand up and show the graphite-covered hand to the bullpen while exclaiming, “Hey— your hands are black!” (Marv never did this, by the way. In fact, Marv rarely came out of his office. I started to think he WAS, in fact, Dracula).
I was the office mascot. The little black kid. The co-key operator for the Xerox machine (with John Romita, Jr., who enthusiastically relinquished the top slot to me). My how liberal we are. Jim, go grab this, “In a jig.” Staffers, some still in the biz, used to come by and rub my head “for good luck.” One staffer kept little jigaboo figurines on his desk: warped, offensive little gnomes in white face eating watermelon. Denys Cowan stole one off of this guy’s desk and gave it to me as a Christmas present. I keep it on my desk here to remind me some of these people still work there…
I didn’t know Larry Hama when he suddenly became my boss on CRAZY Magazine in 1980, but I had been warned that he was, indeed, the best man for the job because he was thoroughly nuts. “Two-Gun” Hama, as he was called behind his back, arrived at Marvel and, like Denzel Washington in Training Day, immediately went about turning my life upside down. Hama has had the most profound and lasting influence on my life, my sense of self, and my sense of honor and morality. He is the most important father figure in my life, and I am most grateful to God for the years we struggled together in that tiny office at Marvel.
The first thing Hama did was build himself a bunker. Steel flat files cases and a drawing easel were arranged in such a way that people passing by the office could see me but not him, and had to stop and deal with me before they dealt with him. He installed red gels in the overhead light grilles, which gave our office a hellish tint and made the mood even more off-putting and less inviting to the rubes. EPIC ILLUSTRATED’s Peter Ledger painted Larry’s office phone bright red and molded little icons all over it, and Larry played Jefferson Starship and The Ramones as he held court with the likes of Bobby London, Mary Wilshire, Heidi MacDonald, Shari Flannigan and other top artists from NATIONAL LAMPOON and other humor magazines.
First day on the job, Larry took me to lunch to explain the New Deal to me. Before his arrival, I had been paid twenty-five dollars a month (yes, a month) to be Paul Laiken’s assistant on CRAZY. Larry was incensed that Marvel had allowed this, and immediately gave me a raise to a whopping $400 per month, which, for a nineteen year-old, was a good deal. Larry later worked to get me on staff (I was, officially, a freelancer), and soon I was making an actual salary, with benefits and so forth.
At the restaurant, as we waited for an open table, a lovely blonde and her lunch companion stepped past us, and the host appeared and began to seat them. Hama objected, politely— we were here first, and the host quickly sat us instead. Hama sat at the table, removed his mirrored aviators, and said, “Jim— never let the white man take advantage of you.”
And, I guess, that’s when it hit me: Larry was Japanese American. A guy many people sidled up to and spoke loudly and slowly, hoping he could understand them. Larry was a Hollywood actor, having appeared in many films. His diction was perfect, and he spoke English better than I did, and in as many dialects as he wanted to.
Larry suddenly made my world make sense. Suddenly, somebody at Marvel had my back. Staffers were much less likely to rub my head or make the black-hands jokes once Larry arrived.
