Let us imagine that one day the world’s celebrities disappeared - all the actors, reality show stars, professional athletes, etc. How long would our society last without them before it descended into pure chaos? A week? A month? Would we ever descend into chaos without celebrities?
Now let us imagine that one day the world’s professionals and tradespeople disappeared - all the doctors, teachers, water sanitation engineers, farmers, garbage collectors, etc. How long would our society last without them before it descended into pure chaos? Hours? Days?
Why then do celebrities make SO MUCH (LIKE, SO MUCH) more than the people without whom our society would not function?
Does this not seem backwards?
My god there is so much that is bad about this
I can understand why Santa is white. I mean the guy lives in the North Pole for God’s sake, the sun doesn’t even shine there.
But Jesus? That dude was Middle Eastern all the way, and it’s silly for him to be depicted as white.Source: uproxx
let’s stop making jokes about girls and start making jokes about white boys
here i’ll start
*white boy voice* chill out man it was just a joke
[walks into class 10 minutes late with a can of Monster] sorry I’m late I got frontpage on Reddit
[wipes cheeto dust off onto cargo shorts] so if you support gender equality does that mean it’s ok to hit women now?
Or maybe we could all just stop bullying everyone?
(via afternoonsnoozebutton)Source: magicnein
The red squares represent the area that would be enough for solar power plants to produce a quantity of electricity consumed by the world today, in Europe (EU-25) and Germany (De).
(Data provided by the German Aerospace Centre (DLR), 2005)
[source 1 2]
Could we maybe get on this before oil runs out and we’re all fucked?
(via shychemist)Source: time-for-maps
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.