My favorite comics.
They were/are still one of my favorites.
The Far Side has always been one of my favorite comics and this is exactly why.
Far Side love
the Queen is dead. long live the Queen.
in one universe, Anna is a fraction of a second too late to save Elsa. She insists on being coronated in mourning black, and fashions her crown out of the shards of Han’s sword as a reminder of how foolishly close she kept her enemies. (It’s the act of true love that counts- and so she thawed and in this case, so happens to be scarred by his sword)
I saw a lot of dark!Elsa going around on my dash, so I thought why not dark!Anna, no?
This is cool!
yes yes all my yes
Nice to see…
Good to know the ROTG fandom is still going strong and ROTBTD has brought in Frozen.
America the красивый, hermoso, beau, schön, belo, bello, formosa, Beautiful.
Wow, what’s with the blow-up about America the Beautiful? The reason I gather that it’s sung in different languages is to celebrate the fact that anyone can come to America and find a better home than where they were originally, with rights and freedoms and welcoming neighbors.
America’s official language, according to the books, is English. But America’s real language is all those of the ones who find a new home here and have found a new home here since the U.S. became the melting pot of the world.
Congratulations, Coca Cola, you’ve made a wonderful ad.
Congratulations, racist and Foreign-phobic America, you’ve officially snuffed out Lady Liberty’s torch.
—-The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”—-
-Emma Lazarus, 1883
(I apologize ahead of time for any spelling/tense/grammatical use errors in the title.)