Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.
I have been waiting for this post all my life.
They are indeed purple, But one thing you’ve missed: The concept of “purple” Didn’t always exist.
Some cultures lack names For a color, you see. Hence good old Homer And his “wine-dark sea.”
A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old, For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold.
So roses are red. Violets once were called blue. I’m hugely pedantic But what else is new?
My friend you’re not wrong
About Homer’s wine-ey sea!
Colours are a matter
Of cultural contingency;
Words are in flux
And meanings they drift
But the word purple
You’ve given short shrift.
The concept of purple,
My friends, is old
And refers to a pigment
once precious as gold.
By crushing up molluscs
From the wine-dark sea
You make a dye:
Imperial decree
Meant that in Rome,
to wear purpura
was a privilege reserved
For only the emperor!
The word ‘purple’,
for clothes so fancy,
Entered English
By the ninth century
.
Why then are voilets
Not purple in song?
The dye from this mollusc,
known for so long
Is almost magenta;
More red than blue.
The concept of purple
is old, and yet new.
The dye is red,
So this might be true:
Roses are purple
And violets are blue
.
While this song makes me merry, Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too.
But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face: Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple.
casual reminder that Elle Woods scored a 179 on the LSAT, which is one point shy of a perfect score.
Casual reminder that Whatshisface here had family connections and was a legacy and shit, whereas Elle Woods came out of nowhere.
casual reminder that Elle Woods actually had an amazing background in real life issues that people dismissed as unimportant but managed to not only learn the law, but learned how to apply the law.
Casual reminder that Elle Woods used her lawyer skills to save a woman from an abusive relationship and also save another woman from trumped up murder charges and basically what I’m saying is you go, girl, go get ‘em Elle Woods, thank you for this movie.
what’s fantastic about this movie is that it’s not that fucked up brand of feminism where the girls who arent like other girls and sip tea and read hemingway look down on the blonde party sluts. the message of the movie is like, you can be blonde and attractive AND enjoy stuff like shopping and partying and you can still be smart and kick ass!!!
I sort of tire of people acting as though there’s no middle ground between the stupid liberal message of “reach out! talk to everyone! coexist (:” and the more radical/left idpol stance which is “i cannot afford to talk to people who hate me because it endangers me and if you say i should, you’re privileged.”
like while I am not into “coexist” or whatever I DO think that the vast majority of people who disagree with me about things are not radical hatemongers, and can be talked to, and are worth talking to. it’s so fucking maddening how much flack people get these days in so-called “radical” spaces (esp. lgbtq spaces!) for suggesting that some people are worth reaching out to. like I think when people hear that, they somehow are assuming that the person suggesting it is implying that they should just normalize the act of justifying their existence, when in reality that’s …not true.
trying to raise consciousness is an act of work, and of course in a perfect world we SHOULDN’T have to explain ourselves, but it really floors me how many people just…stop at “shouldn’t.” there is obviously a grey area! there are levels! no one wants someone to walk up to a violent homophobe on the street and give them a hug but in some cases your annoying cousin on facebook is just a few calm exchanges away from ‘getting’ it, you know? it just seems to be part & parcel of a new sect of thinking that is way, way too comfortable remaining angry and isolated and thinking that the answer to living in an unjust world is to isolate yourself and be resentful instead of trying to work for change.
Hear me out. If Steve Rogers was a real person, under the ice and all, what if he was Fred Rogers’ uncle
Imagine him switching on the TV to find old reruns of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and seeing his goddamn nephew subtly combating racism.
Steve almost can’t believe it’s him, really, until he looks up his Wikipedia page and realizes he’s listed under the notable relatives. All those times he had taken Fred out for ice cream or to walk in the park before the war come back to him because he taught him about equality and fairness.
His little protege in social justice had taken the reins after he left and he’s so proud.
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