For anyone who didn’t see it, let me tell you.
The Doctor’s a time traveler. He brought Vincent Van Gogh (who was severely depressed and lost hope in his ability and himself) to the future, to a museum where they are celebrating his art.
I don’t know if any of you are artists (drawing, writing, whatever), but being a writer, this scene moved me to tears. You’re your own worst critic, and feel like your stuff is complete shit sometimes…maybe even to the level of despair like Van Gogh. But imagine someone brought you to a world where people love and appreciate your art. Or it means something so special to them. The thought of it is overwhelming.
I just about died
I’m crying right now not even kidding.
The thing is, it’s better than that. The full answer from Bill Nighy’s character is this:
“Well… um… big question, but, to me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of colour most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.
the 12 year olds on this website get really mad if you point out the fact that they’re 12
r u serious
NOT EVERY 12 OLD GETS REALLY ANGRY
jesues sometimes people are just so dumb ughh
this is almost as fun as playing spot the vegan.
Spot the vegan? Yeah…the vegan is the one who isn’t killing or harming animals just because “They taste good.”
Found the vegan.
tw: image contains a really heterosexist tweet
The powers that be do not want me to have a good night.
Man, let’s say you’re at a party, yeah? And there are people at the party that prefer cake, and people at the party who prefer pie, so the host serves both. Alright, cool.
So you go in for a slice of pie, when suddenly the host CHARGES over and goes “WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”
“I’m having some pie, man, chill.”
“What the hell? I thought you had cake last time.”
“Yeah, I did have cake last time. But I’m not feeling the cake tonight. And this is my favorite kind of pie.”
“Ohhh no. I thought you were a CAKE person and now all of a sudden you’re eating pie on me? You’re confusing me! Make up your mind!”
“What’s the big deal, even? There’s plenty of both for everyone.”
“YOU CAN’T LIKE BOTH CAKE AND PIE. YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE.”
But man, fuck that guy, I’m going to have the pie anyway, who cares if I had cake last week.
And then if that pie is so good that I never want any other dessert for the rest of my life, that doesn’t mean I suddenly never liked that cake that I ate.
Actually this metaphor is kind of dumb. I guess I should just leave it at “fuck you.”
No, it’s sweet. In fact, it’s a lovely springboard for the rest of the sexualities. For instance, asexuality:
You’re enjoying the party - the music, the conversation - but you just don’t feel like eating cake or pie.
Suddenly, the host charges over with some cake he’s sure you’ll love. He knows this cake. It’s not too rich and not too dry. You politely refuse.
The party keeps going until the host comes back with a slice of pie, practically shoving it in your hands. You try to refuse again.
“Oh come on, what do you want?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Are you on a diet?”
“No, I just don’t eat pie. Or cake.”
“…you had a bad experience with dessert, didn’t you?”
“Forgive me if I’m getting too personal, but it had to be something traumatic. Did someone spike a baked good of whatever construction with a laxative?”
“Fuck no. I just have no desire to eat dessert. I’m sure your pies, cakes, muffins, cookies, waffles, wafers, Nutella sandwiches, what have you…I’m sure they are all lovely. Please, serve them to any and all who would consume them. I’m not one of them. Is that really so hard to comprehend?”
“…you just haven’t found the right one.”
I sort of really love dessert metaphors for sexuality because some of the things people say about sexuality are so ridiculous, but people really only notice them with the metaphors.
Also I love them because I like food and I’m going to eat some dessert now.
the metaphor may begin to break down around demisexuality but what if you’re not really into the whole “eating desserts” thing, in general; like, maybe sweets just ain’t your thing! But your significant other always makes special desserts just for you and they put a lot of effort into them and so of course you eat them and they’re—well, they’re really nice, and so from then on you just really like the desserts they make, but if you go out to a party and they just have random desserts chillaxing you’re always like “eh” “nah” “doesn’t look too appetizing” “[SO] didn’t make ‘em they’re probs not that gr8”
and with pansexuality is like if you like cakes AND pies AND puddings and—just, all desserts, as long as they taste good! Trifles? Yes! Cookies? Yes! Fruit salad? Yes! Ice cream? Yes! But then people are just like “what there are only pies or cakes to choose from WHAT ARE THESE OTHER DESSERTS YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND U”
BLESS THIS POST