The Addams Family (1991) Dir. Barry Sonnenfeld

reblog with your sign and your godly parent

do you ever catch yourself thinking of something so weird and fucked up that you have to stop mid-thought and your face is

Full offence but parents of autistic/ND kids need to stop literally insulting them to their faces

“I had an auto-repair man once, who, on these intelligence tests, could not possibly have scored more than 80, by my estimate. I always took it for granted that I was far more intelligent than he was. Yet, when anything went wrong with my car I hastened to him with it, watched him anxiously as he explored its vitals, and listened to his pronouncements as though they were divine oracles - and he always fixed my car. Well, then, suppose my auto-repair man devised questions for an intelligence test. Or suppose a carpenter did, or a farmer, or, indeed, almost anyone but an academician. By every one of those tests, I’d prove myself a moron, and I’d be a moron, too. In a world where I could not use my academic training and my verbal talents but had to do something intricate or hard, working with my hands, I would do poorly. My intelligence, then, is not absolute but is a function of the society I live in and of the fact that a small subsection of that society has managed to foist itself on the rest as an arbiter of such matters. Consider my auto-repair man, again. He had a habit of telling me jokes whenever he saw me. One time he raised his head from under the automobile hood to say: “Doc, a deaf-and-mute guy went into a hardware store to ask for some nails. He put two fingers together on the counter and made hammering motions with the other hand. The clerk brought him a hammer. He shook his head and pointed to the two fingers he was hammering. The clerk brought him nails. He picked out the sizes he wanted, and left. Well, doc, the next guy who came in was a blind man. He wanted scissors. How do you suppose he asked for them?” Indulgently, I lifted my right hand and made scissoring motions with my first two fingers. Whereupon my auto-repair man laughed raucously and said, “Why, you dumb jerk, He used his voice and asked for them.” Then he said smugly, “I’ve been trying that on all my customers today.” “Did you catch many?” I asked. “Quite a few,” he said, “but I knew for sure I’d catch you.” “Why is that?” I asked. “Because you’re so goddamned educated, doc, I knew you couldn’t be very smart.””

— Isaac Asimov

(source)

Bonus:

the gods have had mentally ill worshippers for as long as they’ve had worshippers.

the gods have had chronically ill worshippers for as long as they’ve had worshippers.

the gods have had neurodivergent worshippers for as long as they’ve had worshippers.

they won’t be offended or think less of you just because your devotion looks different to able-bodied neurotypical devotion. they understand.

Detail of Ophelia, 1851, by John Everett Millais (1829-1896).

Fat and thin people with kidney failure experience similar benefits to health and longevity when they receive a live donor kidney transplant. 

Yet fat patients are routinely denied kidney transplants until they lose weight, a delay that can increase the risk of serious complications like graft loss by as much as 68%. 

To Tell an Omen

Witches and Magick-Makers have been reading into omens since the dawn of time. Omens have changed the course of history quite few times, or perhaps even foretold of a grisly ending of rulers and monarchs.

The omen is considered by many to be a divine message from the Gods. Perhaps it’s the universe trying to tell you something? Maybe it’s the Spirits you’ve come to know on your path? Or maybe it is the Gods.

No matter the messenger, an omen is still a signal coming through in order to make someone aware of something. It could be just a warning, or perhaps even a grand prophecy. The possibilities are great.

However, many Witches, especially new and bright eyed ones, sometimes have a habit of believing everything they see is an omen, and in that, possibly missing the real ones. This isn’t a bad thing and most of the time they’ll grow out of it and start realizing what actually is and isn’t an omen.

For example, when I first became a Witch, I saw a murder of crows in my yard. I instantly flipped because I thought the Morrigan was calling to me. I studied up on Her and tried to approach Her, without success. I was so confused. Why would She call to me and then not come when I respond? Well, she never did call, that’s why.

During that, I had completely disregarded the plethora of signs I had been receiving from Hekate. Keys appearing and disappearing, endless dogs howling and barking around me no matter where I was (even in the grocery store. How could I not think that was weird at the time?), frogs appearing in the dead of winter, and my really strange dreams. It wasn’t until I actually stopped and looked for consistencies that I realized Hekate was calling me. And when I called to Her, She answered. Loudly.

That’s an example of when I didn’t know how to read omens. Now here’s one from this week (which inspired this post):

Last week, I started having really strange dreams about babies. Number one, I hate children. Number two, I can’t get pregnant. I’m a man.

So, the setting in the dream was in places I knew to be familiar to my family. My cousins house, in fact. Well, a couple months ago, she was told by her doctor that she would never be able to conceive due to an illness she has. So, I wrote off the possibility of pregnancy.

Well later, I was hanging out with her when she told me that her and husband had been looking to adopt and were looking around for different adoption agencies, but had stopped due to my cousin suddenly losing hope in having children all together.

The dreams continued. Always in her house.

Well, yesterday, I went and saw her and I noticed she had been crying. I continued to ask what was wrong and she kept saying nothing. Well, since I try to be a comforter at times, I pressed on. She finally told me that it was nothing bad and was actually quite good. Then it clicked. She was finally pregnant. I asked and she began to cry with joy and told me this is what she’s always wanted.

Omens are strange things, and can be frustratingly subtle sometimes. But with discernment, you can get an idea on how to read them. I’ve learned a few ways over the years to determine if an omen is actually an omen. And thus, here we are.

How to tell if an omen is actually an omen:

1.) Look for consistency. Randomness is a very real thing and should be accounted for, especially for understanding omens. If a repeated theme is constantly popping up around you, check into it. It could be an omen.

2.) Look for something strange. Omens aren’t always shockingly weird, but they often seem to come out of the sphere of the ordinary. They often won’t reflect your normal day to day existence. Example: I hate kids, I try not be around them, and yet I couldn’t stop dreaming about them.

3.) Look for normalcy in places it normally wouldn’t be. That moment of regularity amidst the chaos could be a sign from the Spirit Realm. Don’t overlook it.

4.) Divine on it. If you think you’re being sent a sign, consult some divination techniques. Tarot is wonderful, as is throwing some bones.

In conclusion, don’t read too far into things that don’t matter, and pay attention to the real stuff. Use your mind and focus when reading omens.