This reminds me of both Pinkie and the Brain and that one comic about alligators hatching an opossum from a melon. These weird orange or green eggs come with all kinds of animals, don’t they?
Giveaway Contest: We’re giving away twelve Bantam Classics paperbacks by Walt Whitman, Emily Bronte, Edgar Allan Poe, James Joyce, George Eliot, Shakespeare, and others! Won’t this collection look lovely on your shelf? 😀
To win these classics, you must: 1) be following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblog this post. We will choose a random winner on September 29, at which time we’ll start a new giveaway. And yes, we’ll ship to any country. Easy, right? Good luck!
I literally re-registered to vote after moving four months ago. And apparently I’m no longer registered.
Everyone, please check to make sure you’re registered to vote! There would be nothing worse than going to the polls determined to vote some current Congress members out of office only to find that you’re not registered, over some stupid muck-up by the government!
Check and double-check, and make sure the form of ID you’re bringing is valid!
This is the election that counts. Start educating yourself now on who will be campaigning to be your congresspeople/governor/etc.
Register to vote NOW. Don’t wait. You can do it any time.
This is the fight we need to win. VOTE
VOTE
VOTE
Also…reminder to pay attention to all local elections and VOTE. These elected officials are the people most likely to directly impact your life in the short term.
This has to start now. Right now.
Get your birth certificates. There may be a fee or long wait times. Make sure you get a certified copy.
Make sure you have ID. Dig into your state’s laws and the whole Real ID thing, because (and sorry I can’t research this now, but pneumonia) I believe there are certain states whose driver’s licenses don’t qualify for Real ID.
Make sure you’re registered to vote. Google it. Follow the instructions for your state.
Know where your local polling place is or find out if you can vote by mail.
Vote in ALL your upcoming elections. Yes, that means the little ones for city council or dog catcher or whatever. Vote those racist, homophobic, bigots out at every level.
They’re like weeds. You can pull up every visible bit, but if you leave one tiny segment of root, they’ll just come back.
To quote Mira Grant, rise up while you can. Because the Republicans are way the hell worse than zombies.
What if you were reading a fantasy novel and there was some king or nobleman whose coat of arms seems to appear everywhere and is constantly noted in the narration, but it’s not until the dude appears in person that the coat of arms is actually described.
Only it’s not a house symbol or anything pretentious like that. Dude’s wearing a literal cloak made out human arms. How fucked up would that be?
It was that mark again. His mark. That same damned coat of arms stamped on every disaster the Duke left in his wake.
There were stories about the coat of arms – dozens of them – and if even one of them turned out to be true I don’t think I’d do much sleeping anymore. Some said it was a gift from the devil, already fashioned from parts unknown. Others say they were taken at the point of a sword, either from brave men who died standing up to him, or gentle villagers who would never have raised a hand against him. A few say the arms were given willingly by noble patriots who gave their bodies over to the Duke’s cause. The ones who say that don’t tend to have a lot of self-respect
The story of where it came from was never very relevant, it’s always what the coat was that mattered. It was more a shawl than a coat – a waist length piece of oilcloth only visible at the neckline where it was buckled with a rune-inscribed clasp. The rest of it was hidden of course by layers upon layers of human arms.
There were a hundred of them, each of them grey as a corpse yet prehensile as if their owners were still using them. They were skillful hands – every one of them remembered their trade and needed no instruction, only that the Duke demanded their service. Among them were the arms great warriors, with ten men’s strength and flawless skill with the sword, spear and longbow. There were the hands of clever tinkers, ever busy with their craft and never ceasing to produce enchanted items fro the Duke even as he slept. There were pickpockets and surgeons, shield-men and knife throwers, and among them even a number of wizards whose wizened arms still carried the wards and spells of ancient days.
Among all there was but one mismatched pair unlike any of the others. A man’s right arm dangled to the duke’s left, and a woman’s left hand tightly clasped his right. One would think that a hundred-strong man would have nothing to fear in life, but the wicked old Duke held his mother and father’s hands for courage all the same
NineofShades 