Chris is truly one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, to the point where sometimes I would look at him and it would kind of break my heart. He’s really vulnerable, and he’s really straightforward. He’s like primary colors. He has beautiful, big, strong emotions, and he’s really sure of them. It’s just wonderful to be around. His heart is probably golden-colored, if you could paint it. – Jenny Slate
Do you think I am one of those who mend hearts, deliver the soul, and drive out suffering?
I am certain I am more capable of provoking disillusion and disgust. I have little skill in healing, although I have sometimes tried it.
I rise like the sun above olive trees, like the moon above date palms. Where there is light, I shall be. Where there is darkness, there is none of me. I rise like the moon above date palms. I am counted as one among stars.
Book of the Dead, Ancient Egyptian Funerary Text, circa 1600 BCE
Terrifying:forthcoming, unnerving, never seems to fully materialize, pitch-black, veiled, formless, bloodcurdling in its subtle obscure way, devouring; it teases and haunts you when you can’t even name it. It’s overall psychological – you strive to make it take shape in your mind while it feeds on suspense, indeterminacy and ignorance.
Horrifying: stark, manifest, blood-soaked in front of your very eyes, sadistic, wild, frenzied, of a shining crimson; it shocks, menaces and assails you to the point of paralysis and dementia. It’s of a more visual, physical nature and brutally unambiguous; it doesn’t depend on anything else – it’s what follows the unveiling of the terrifying.
Terror/Horror were not meant to be synonyms but to convey distinct impressions – so choose your words wisely if you want to make good old Ann Radcliffe proud! xx
I researched this for my major work!
Stephen King has three different forms of fear (as he sees them) that really capitalise on what @xshayarsha said: 1) The Gross Out: the sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs, when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm –> irrelevant for the terror/horror discussion, but interesting nevertheless. 2) The Terror: when you come home and notice everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute, when the lights go out and you feel something behind you, you feel it’s breath against your ear, but when you turn around there’s nothing there. As above: subtle, devouring, psychological. 3) The Horror: the unnatural, spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around, when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. As above: manifest, menacing, visual.
Further than that, even, consider that ‘horror’ transfers similar meaning to the adjective ‘horrific’, but ‘terror’ and ‘terrific’ are seemingly opposed. It’s because of a semantic change called amelioration—when a word’s meaning is elevated; opposite being ‘perjoration’, which is when a word’s meaning is degraded.
The words “horror,” “horrible,” and “horrific” have their roots in the Indo-European base ghers- / ghrs- (to become stiff), according to the Chambers Dictionary of Etymology. The terms “terror,” “terrible,” and “terrific,” Chambers tells us, are rooted in the Indo-European base ters- / tres- (to shake). Those Indo-European roots gave Latin the verbs horrere (to bristle with fear) and terrere (to fill with fear), which inspired the Old French, Middle French, Anglo-Norman, and Modern French words that gave English such frightening language.
The meanings of all six words reflected their scary or hair-raising roots when they entered English from the 1300s to the 1600s, according to written examples in the Oxford English Dictionary: The dictionary’s earliest citation for “terrific” in this sense is from Milton’s Paradise Lost (1667), which describes the Serpent in Paradise as a subtle beast “with brazen Eyes And hairie Main terrific.” In less than a century, Oxford says, “terrific” took on a weakened sense: “Of great size or intensity; excessive; very severe.” The earliest example of this new usage in the dictionary is from a 1743 translation of Horace’s lyric poetry: “How cou’d … Porphyrion of terrific size … stand against the Warrior-goddess?” It took another century, according to the OED citations, for “terrific” to take on the modern sense of “an enthusiastic term of commendation: amazing, impressive; excellent, exceedingly good, splendid.” The first example of this sense is from an advertisement in the Oct. 21, 1871, issue of The Athenaeum, a journal of science and the arts: “The last lines of the first ballad are simply terrific,—something entirely different to what any English author would dream of, much less put on paper.” (x)
It’s really interesting to approach the popular culture you consume with this knowledge, esp. the horror genre and gothic literature.
Note: you can learn more about the theory behind it here if you’d like.
i’ve stopped trash talking comic sans after learning the font is actually one of the only dyslexia-friendly fonts that come standard with most computers and i advocate for others doing the same
In the event that you would like to continue hating Comic Sans, other dyslexia-friendly alternatives include Arial, Verdana, Tahoma, Century Gothic and Trebuchet.
thank
Random fact: Verdana is one of the few fonts which was specifically designed to be as easy to read as possible, even at smaller type sizes. It was designed this way for use on screen, but the same principles apply in print too. This is part of why some Universities use Verdana as their default font for documents.
“In the event that you would like to continue hating Comic Sans” is one of the best things I’ve ever read on this website
Century Gothic and Trebuchet are both quite handsome typefaces.
I’m partial to Century Gothic as well. It’s serif, but not boring.
There’s also a dyslexic font designed especially for dyslexic people to read.
You can install on your tablets, laptops and browers etc, so not only can you change things like documents into it, you can change websites into that font as well!
I’m sure you’re bright enough to do a google search, but since I’m dumb enough to forget to post a link, here it is. Better late than never
“A great man is largely forgotten by the public. He doesn’t stand on top of a mountain waving a flag saying, “Look at me—I’m a great man.” A great man often disappears into the ether. Hardly anyone notices that he was even there, apart from his family and close friends. He was reliable. He showed up. He was there. He was useful where he could be. He made mistakes. Tried to make better of those mistakes. Doesn’t mean you have to cure cancer or understand the theory of relativity. It’s not necessarily as rock-and-roll or as cool as you might think. Part of being a great man is accepting that. To dare to be average and normal is actually a pathway to becoming a great man. To have more humility. To accept responsibility more. To just get on with what’s in front of your face. And to leave no fucking indelible mark of your ever being here, apart from the fact that you were there for your family to the best of your ability. It’s not an easy task. I’ll probably fuck it up.”
Happy 40th Birthday, Tommy Hardy!♡ September 15th, 1977
Embrace your
differences and the qualities about you that you think are weird.
Eventually, they’re going to be the only things separating you from
everyone else.
“I am now 73 years old. I was at Indian residential school from age 11-15. I had to work in the infirmary, where there were many sick and hungry children. I’d steal food like peanut butter and bread to feed them. A lot of kids died there. I had to handle the dead children — wrapping them to be buried. Once I got caught speaking my native language. I wasn’t aware my language was different. My punishment was having four fingernails pulled out. At residential school we all received numbers. I was known as #702. But my name is Sphenia. It’s an Ojibwa name that means ‘on my way’. For many years now I’ve worked as an advocate for abused children. I started a school for indigenous kids in Vancouver called Spirit Rising Cultural Survival School.”
A friend of mine on FB wrote this and, with their permission, told me that I could share it. I got more than a bit choked up reading it. Enjoy.
I’m 6 years old, and I’m Luke Skywalker, blowing up the Death Star in his X-Wing and using the Force… until I go outside to play Star Wars with the neighborhood kids, and I’m told I can’t be Luke because I’m a girl. I have to be Leia instead. Nothing wrong with Leia, but she’s the girl. She’s my only option, otherwise, I’m not allowed to play.
I’m 7 years old, and I’m She-Ra, with a pegasus and sword and… and no one wants to play She-Ra, because He-Man is better, stupid girl, duh. No boy wants to play a girl character. Duh. Stupid girl.
I’m 8 years old, and I’m Liono, with the Sword of Omens, telling me the future and defeating my enemies… until I can’t, because I’m a girl. I have to be Cheetara, even though I don’t like to run around really fast. She’s the girl. She’s my only option.
I’m 10 years old, and I’m a Ninja Turtle. I have these cool weapons and know martial arts… until I can’t be, because I’m a girl. I have to be April. She doesn’t get to do much, but she’s the girl. She’s my only option. If the other girl wants to play, she gets to be April, and I’m out, because she’s prettier.
I’m 14 years old, and my father yells at me again to stop being such a girl. Stop being weak. Stop being stupid. Stop being you.
I’m 17 years old, and set foot in a comic shop for the first time, only to be told girls don’t read comics. I must just be trying to impress my boyfriend. I don’t even get to ask if they had that book I read part of, with the beautiful woman who was Death, who saved a teenage boy.
I’m 24, and I’m Jean Grey, the powerful Phoenix, but turned into some weird Scarlet Witch hybrid who must die at the hands of Wolverine, because Logan just needed a little more angst.
I’m 28 and I’m Commander Shepard at the helm of the Normandy, but just having the OPTION of a female player character sends hordes of men into a blind rage, intent on stamping out any joy I might derive from this. I have to mute tons of keywords online and play in friends-only groups if I want to avoid being called a cunt for the sin of logging into multiplayer with a female avatar.
I’m 32 and I get a job running a comic shop. I tell my boss I’d like to have ladies nights. He asks, “But when is men’s night?”
I’m 33 and I’m Rey, facing down Kylo and digging deep to survive, despite being terrified. I’ve been fighting my whole life, though, and I manage to get out of it alive. I spend the next 6 months listening to every other guy who comes into my shop informing me that she’s a Mary Sue and how stupid it was to crowbar her in just for the sake of appeasing the females and pandering to feminazis.
I’m 34 and I get to be a Ghostbuster! My heart sings as I dual-wield proton guns, but when the battle’s over, I have to listen to all these guys trash it and talk about how women just aren’t funny and should stop trying.
I’m 34, and I am NOT MCU Black Widow, who categorizes herself as a monster because she can’t have children, who laughs as her male coworkers make rape jokes at the office party. I am NOT MCU Scarlet Witch, who is a problem for the men to deal with, who has to stay home and cook dinner while they take care of business, because she’s just too emotional.
Today, I’m 35, and I’m Diana of Themyscira, striding across a battlefield as everyone follows her lead. I’ve been waiting for this battle my whole life. Going into the movie, I had yet to see a single bad review, from anyone, regardless of gender. I had heard no one saying the movie was pointless or stupid or just another instance of women ruining everything. There is this tall, powerful, beautiful female hero, and no one is acting like it’s their job to tear her down. I look at the trending topics today, and everyone still loves it. The naysayers are a fringe minority. There is valid criticism, as the movie isn’t perfect. It has some problems, but overall, it’s GOOD. Finally. This is what it feels like. So yeah, I cried. I cried a lot. I’ll probably mist up a lot more times when I watch it. Everyone should get to feel like that.
“My mom battled drug addiction and mental illness her entire life. She ultimately died of it. She was purposefully open in all of her work about the social stigmas surrounding these diseases. She talked about the shame that torments people and their families confronted by these diseases. I know my Mom, she’d want her death to encourage people to be open about their struggles. Seek help, fight for government funding for mental health programs. Shame and those social stigmas are the enemies of progress to solutions and ultimately a cure. Love you Momby.” – Billie Lourd.
ealdor 