actually physically painful to watch because you know months were spent masking all those frames for each of the kajillions of transitions in this
Holy………..shmokes…….
Oh?? My god??
I’ll try my best to describe this. It’s a video with a mash-up of a bunch of different Disney movies, set to a song that’s a mash-up of a bunch of other songs. That in and of itself wouldn’t make it praiseworthy, but this is DONE SO WELL that just, holy cow.
Just wanted to point out. That’s how an appology should be done. An acknowledgment that you hurt someone, what you’re going to do better next time. An explanation of your reasoning of your actions without attempting to make an excuse.
Anyone who tries to tell you that WWII soldiers didn’t use “fuck” as punctuation is lying.
No, guys Douglas Bader is the best!
In 1931,at age 21 (!!) Bader crashed after attempting some aerobatics too low to the ground, and he had to be rushed to hospital, and the plane crash pulverized the bones in his legs.
Bader woke up in the hospital to find that one of his legs had to be amputated. Several days later, his other leg was removed. Now a double amputee, Bader was told he could never do anything he loved again. Rugby, dancing, flying, let alone walking. Yet that didn’t stop him. When his legs healed enough to allow for prosthetics, he told the men building them that he needed to get them done quickly, as he “would need them to take someone out dancing later that week”. They laughed at him, as no one had ever walked without a cane, or even regained full mobility with TWO prosthetic legs.
Bader, basically saying ‘fuck you i can do what i want’, then went on to never EVER use the cane. A few months after the initial fitting, he took his sweetheart, Thelma Edwards, dancing in his own, specially modified car.
Eventually he got a job doing desk work at Shell, as the RAF gave him as Medical Discharge, due to the loss of both legs (one above and one below the knee). He was unhappy with this, as he LOVED flying, and knew he could fly the planes if there were only some minor modifications. But the RAF didn’t want, or need, less than 100% physically fit men in these interwar years. Yet Bader kept petitioning the RAF commanders to let him fly, and they eventually agreed reluctantly, if Bader could only prove to them he was physically fit.
To the RAF’s surprise, he passed the tests with flying colours, and basically demanded a plane. Then WWII started, and the RAF needed experienced, trained, officers.
During the Battle of Britain, he pioneered some innovative new flying tactics (called the Big Wing), and Bader was given command after command. He was eventually given command of a motley unit of Canadians who had lost most of their numbers and supplies in the Battle of France. He pulled them together into an effective fighting force, and was commonly seen wandering around with his distinctive rolling gait, yelling at the supply distributors, and with a massive cigar in his lips.
Though, while on one of his flights over Nazi-occupied France, he got shot down. The way the plane went down however, if he didn’t have detachable legs he would have been unable to bail and would have died.
Then Bader was captured by Germans and sent to a hospital, where he received a new prosthetic leg from a German official (who found him hilarious, a pilot with no legs!)
Bader escaped the hospital but was recaptured due to his distinctive gait and relative slowness of walking pace (just wait this is a pretty common theme from here on out).
He was then transferred to Stalag Luft III (a POW camp lead by the Luftwaffe (German version of RAF)), where he was involved with, and had so many escape attempts the Germans threatened to take his legs away.
After a final, most nearly successful escape, Bader was transferred to the Colditz Castle, six hundred and fifty kilometers from non-Nazi occupied land. With walls two meters thick, and which sat on a cliff seventy-five meters above the River Mulde, this castle was escape-proof.
For officers deemed an escape risk, Like Bader, this castle was the last stop. It held the worst of the escape prone POWs. Several other POWs in the castle had ridiculous plans to escape, ranging from paragliding, to using contortion and gymnastics. Yet Bader, with his instantly recognizable gait and lack of legs, would only be a hindrance at best, and would ensure they would all be recaptured, and killed as spies at worst. So Bader spent the rest of his time in Colditz, from Aug 1942-April 1945, when the castle was liberated by the US Army.
Bader was given many awards and distinctions, yet after the war he left the RAF (for good this time) and went on to work at Shell again, this time flying around the world in his own plane with his wife.
More than that he became an activist and a hero for disabled people.
Before, if someone had lost both of their legs, they would have been told, like Bader, that they would have no options but to walk with a cane, or be wheelchair bound, and live a drastically limited life to what they lived before.
After Bader, when kids asked if they could ever walk again, their nurses and doctors would point at Bader and say “Well, if he can, there is no reason why you cannot”.
He was eventually knighted, not for his leadership in war, or his medals, but due to his massive work in propelling disabled activism and repelling the stigmas around the ‘limitations’ of disabled people.
(There is a great biography of his life by Paul Brickhill, called Reach for the Sky, and he is pretty great. I did a book report on it in grade 11 and it is very, very interesting, if you are interested at all in WWII, or stuff like that!)
TL;DR – Man looses both legs in a plane accident at 21, told he could never walk again. Through sheer stubbornness and ‘Fuck You.’ energy, he becomes a pilot and the squadron leader/group leader of many different units in WWII, before becoming POW in the most inescapable POW camp–due to proclivity to escape–until the end of the War. 1976, was knighted for his work on behalf of disabled people, and being a disabled activist.
nah I think we should really stop glorifying cigarettes
you sound boring.
You sound like you’ve never had the scent of cigarette smoke ingrained in your clothes to the point where people in middle school thought you smoked at eleven because your parents couldn’t be bothered to go outside. You sound like you’ve never had your mother flick cigarette ashes out of the car window and have them fly into your face. You sound like you’ve never been kept up at night by the sound of your dad hacking up a lung because he has to get up for his midnight smoke. You sound like you’ve never had to run into a convenience store to get your mother cigarettes as soon as you turned eighteen and cringed at touching the box because you know they’re not only killers but government sanctioned killers because they can not only tax the shit out of them but ensure people buy more at the cost of young lungs and a once beautiful home now plagued with the smell of smoke and ash. You sound like you’ve never had a great grandmother who stopped smoking 30 years before her death who still got lung cancer and subsequently died. You sound like a Fucking ignoramus. Smoking isn’t Fucking cool, it isn’t fun to glorify, it’s disgusting and makes not only you but your children smell bad. Makes not only you but your children cough, get cancer, get sick.
You sound like a Fucking moron. Smoking isn’t cool. Grow the Fuck up.
No, you grow the fuck up. There’s mountains of constant judgment when it comes to smoking. How about you leave people alone and let them do what they want with their bodies.
There is a REASON. It’s not just their bodies they’re fucking. It’s never just their bodies with something fucking airborne. Especially when you have CHILDREN AND PETS.
My grandfather smoked in his house decades ago. We moved in. We started working on it. After just one day of having the AC off so it could be worked on, I could no longer stay in the house because the smell was coming out of the walls <I>so strongly</I> and triggering my asthma to the point where I couldn’t breathe. My grandfather is dead and his smoking still managed to effect me that negativity. It is not just their body.
My aunt took up smoking in secret as a coping method for her depression. My cousin found out and she was so scared for her mom’s health that she hid the cigarettes. But when my aunt noticed they were missing, do you think she had a calm conversation about the whole thing with my cousin? Nope. She stormed into her room in such a rage, my cousin was too scared to even argue. She just gave the cigarettes back and prayed for her mom to leave the room. There was no explanation for why she took up smoking, for why she was trying to hide it, no reassurance for her worried daughter, not even a question as to why my cousin took them… there was just addiction-fueled anger. Directed at a child who had no control over her environment.
And then there’s my own mother, who has never taken up smoking, but who grew up with two chain-smoking parents. My mom who has permanent lung and throat damage from a lifetime of breathing in smoke that she didn’t ask for. My mom who now takes daily medication so her throat doesn’t ache.
But, tell me again how smoking only affects your body?
I grew up breathing not only my step-dad’s cigarette smoke, but all his friends as they’d frequently hang out in the living room together creating a cloud of smoke that permeated the whole house.
I got asthma at 10.
I found a growth in my left lung at 30.
I now have 1 lung. 1 lung and I’m still asthmatic.
Fuck people who smoke around children.
If you can’t agree with this, then fucking unfollow the shit out of me. Too many people in my family have died. My grandfather lost his wife to Lung Cancer. He still smokes though. And my dad who stopped cold turkey when my oldest brother was born and went through hell to make sure his first kid wouldn’t have to also. But did it help? No. Because his mom didn’t care that she had a newborn inhaling her goddamned secondhand smoke. Don’t you dare say it only affects the smoker. Don’t you dare.
Borne Ceaseless 