Hey everyone! Betsey Stevenson here from President Obama’s Council of Economic Advisers. In honor of Women’s Equality Day, I’ll be taking over I Love Charts to tell the story of the progress we’ve made in closing the earnings gap between women and men, and the challenges women still face in the workforce.
Betsey says it better than we can. Have a look at the results.
Also, hey, Happy Women’s Equality Day, Tumblr.
"what’s the worst that could happen? I’ll be TOO cool?" I say as I strap the rocket blasters to my heelys
(Source: walmarts, via turtleswithswords)
I mentioned this is the iconic images compilation post but let me just rant for a little bit.
This is a portrait of Istvan Reiner, taken shortly before he was killed in Auschwitz. Look at him. Look how ridiculously happy he looks. He’s playing with a card and hole puncher. He’s maybe 6 or 7 years old. I wonder about all the birthday’s and birthday present he missed out on. I wonder about all the best friends he might have made or about the tears that would have streaked down his face the first time he had his heart broken. I wonder about his future career, or how he would’ve proposed to his life-partner. I wonder if he’d grow up to be a doctor or a carpenter or an engineer. I wonder about how those same big, dark eyes would swell up with joy at the site of his very own child.
I wonder how someone can be so outright despicable as to pack him into a gas chamber and take away all of that.
These, for me, are the two most depressing paintings in western history. They were painted by post-impressionist Henry de Toulouse-Lautrec, a man who, due to inbreeding, was born with a genetic disorder that prevented his legs from growing after they were broken. After being so thoroughly mocked for is appearance, he became an alcoholic, which is what eventually caused his institutionalization and death. His only known romantic relations were with prostitutes.
And then he paints something like this which is so beautiful and tender and sentimental. It seems like the couple in bed really loves each other—cares about each other. Wakes up happy to look at each other. And I see that love and passion and I wonder how lonely he must have been. I wonder how he could paint something like this without it breaking his heart.
Maybe they say artists should create what they know, not because its unbelievable when they extend themselves beyond their experiences, but because when they pull it off with such elegance, it’s so damn unbearable to look at. I hate thinking of Lautrec, wondering about the lovers he created and knowing it was beyond his experience. Creating something that he knows is beautiful and knows he’ll never really understand.
we’ve all had crushes we very strongly regret
evil laugh because rebekah, i know yours ◠‿◠
oh shit rebekah watch out