It's super effective!
x-cetra:

fuchsimeon:

beccabummie:

all-four-cheekbones:

oldfuckingsport:

iminmypants:

mlletimelord:

castielcampbell:

death-limes:

muffinass:

and in that moment, the entire movie theater burst into tears

i think this was the moment that made most of us despise umbridge more than voldemort

most of us?! don’t you mean ALL of us?? I don’t think even Voldemort liked this bitch!

No one likes Umbridge.

I heard, one time, a dementor kissed her and IT died

Voldemort committed genocide, but Umbridge dared to be female while she abused her power. 

The point isn’t that Umbridge was worse than Voldemort; it’s that everyone hates her more. And I think it has nothing to do with her being a woman and everything with being the sort of cruel most of us have actually experienced.
I mean, look at Voldemort. He’s basically Wizard Hitler, which is, obviously, an incredibly terrible thing to be. But most people—especially the younger people in Harry Potter’s target audience—have not had their parents murdered by a xenophobic cult leader. Nor have they fought for their lives against giant snakes, been kidnapped for dark rituals, or watched numerous friends die in front of them. Voldemort’s crimes are numerous, but they’re distant and fantastical, like hearing about a serial killer on the news.
But they have had that one teacher who inflicts extra punishments just because they don’t like you. They’ve complained to parents and authorities only to be ignored. They’ve sat through pointless classes and been silenced when they criticize. Umbridge is that teacher we all hated because she made our lives miserable and we were powerless to stop her. And as we grow out of school, there are still people in positions of power who act like her. The manager who denies your schedule requests and penalizes you for invented infractions. That customer who complains to corporate because their scam didn’t work, and the corporate decision to listen to their story. Cops performing illegal searches because they know you don’t have any proof.
Yes, torturing and killing numerous people is worse than terrorizing a handful of schoolchildren, but Voldemort is the bad guy in a fairy tale. Umbridge is personal.

*drops the mic*

Voldemort is the villain we never hope to face.
Umbridge is the villain we face every day.

All of the discussion above is important, but I’d also like to point out: this moment isn’t just about Umbridge, a woman abusing power, but about Trelawney, a woman whom most of the school had mocked or dismissed or despised. Witnessing this, the student body unites and is on her side, finally seeing her as a person, and as a soul in pain.
It’s easy to respect McGonagall or Mrs. Weasley. But this is Sybill Trelawney. She’s not brilliant, or pretty, or awesome, except to a few students who liked what she was teaching. But she’s a person. She has value and dignity, and mistreating her like this is inhuman.
That moment between Umbridge and Trelawney, isolated in the middle of a courtyard with hundreds of eyes watching, was an object lesson in bullying. And one way to combat bullying is to recognize the victim as a person, de-objectifying that individual.
So, I’d like to draw some attention back to the original screencap. It’s not Umbridge’s moment. It’s Sybill’s.

Responding to this bit in particular…
But they have had that one teacher who inflicts extra punishments just because they don’t like you. They’ve complained to parents and authorities only to be ignored. They’ve sat through pointless classes and been silenced when they criticize. Umbridge is that teacher we all hated because she made our lives miserable and we were powerless to stop her.
There’s actually another teacher exactly like this who happens to be male, and I seem to recall the fandom’s reception of him being somewhat more positive than its reception of Umbridge.
Not even magic can dispel the side effects of gender, alas.

x-cetra:

fuchsimeon:

beccabummie:

all-four-cheekbones:

oldfuckingsport:

iminmypants:

mlletimelord:

castielcampbell:

death-limes:

muffinass:

and in that moment, the entire movie theater burst into tears

i think this was the moment that made most of us despise umbridge more than voldemort

most of us?! don’t you mean ALL of us?? I don’t think even Voldemort liked this bitch!

No one likes Umbridge.

I heard, one time, a dementor kissed her and IT died

Voldemort committed genocide, but Umbridge dared to be female while she abused her power. 

The point isn’t that Umbridge was worse than Voldemort; it’s that everyone hates her more. And I think it has nothing to do with her being a woman and everything with being the sort of cruel most of us have actually experienced.

I mean, look at Voldemort. He’s basically Wizard Hitler, which is, obviously, an incredibly terrible thing to be. But most people—especially the younger people in Harry Potter’s target audience—have not had their parents murdered by a xenophobic cult leader. Nor have they fought for their lives against giant snakes, been kidnapped for dark rituals, or watched numerous friends die in front of them. Voldemort’s crimes are numerous, but they’re distant and fantastical, like hearing about a serial killer on the news.

But they have had that one teacher who inflicts extra punishments just because they don’t like you. They’ve complained to parents and authorities only to be ignored. They’ve sat through pointless classes and been silenced when they criticize. Umbridge is that teacher we all hated because she made our lives miserable and we were powerless to stop her. And as we grow out of school, there are still people in positions of power who act like her. The manager who denies your schedule requests and penalizes you for invented infractions. That customer who complains to corporate because their scam didn’t work, and the corporate decision to listen to their story. Cops performing illegal searches because they know you don’t have any proof.

Yes, torturing and killing numerous people is worse than terrorizing a handful of schoolchildren, but Voldemort is the bad guy in a fairy tale. Umbridge is personal.

*drops the mic*

Voldemort is the villain we never hope to face.

Umbridge is the villain we face every day.

All of the discussion above is important, but I’d also like to point out: this moment isn’t just about Umbridge, a woman abusing power, but about Trelawney, a woman whom most of the school had mocked or dismissed or despised. Witnessing this, the student body unites and is on her side, finally seeing her as a person, and as a soul in pain.

It’s easy to respect McGonagall or Mrs. Weasley. But this is Sybill Trelawney. She’s not brilliant, or pretty, or awesome, except to a few students who liked what she was teaching. But she’s a person. She has value and dignity, and mistreating her like this is inhuman.

That moment between Umbridge and Trelawney, isolated in the middle of a courtyard with hundreds of eyes watching, was an object lesson in bullying. And one way to combat bullying is to recognize the victim as a person, de-objectifying that individual.

So, I’d like to draw some attention back to the original screencap. It’s not Umbridge’s moment. It’s Sybill’s.

Responding to this bit in particular…

But they have had that one teacher who inflicts extra punishments just because they don’t like you. They’ve complained to parents and authorities only to be ignored. They’ve sat through pointless classes and been silenced when they criticize. Umbridge is that teacher we all hated because she made our lives miserable and we were powerless to stop her.

There’s actually another teacher exactly like this who happens to be male, and I seem to recall the fandom’s reception of him being somewhat more positive than its reception of Umbridge.

Not even magic can dispel the side effects of gender, alas.

Nerawareta Gakuen:

The most gorgeous anime movie you’ve never seen.

http://nonanano.com/
http://dim.ukime.org/
http://mojgon.tumblr.com/
A major theme, if not the major theme, of The Wind Rises is that it’s important to take the time to think deeply about one’s mistakes. In fact, the majority of the film’s action, as well as its most spectacular moments, involve its protagonist reflecting on something that went wrong and imagining how it could have been done differently for the purpose of rising to greater heights in the future. Because The Wind Rises portrays Jiro Horikoshi, the creator of the Zero fighter plane, in a humanistic light, showing that he wasn’t a bad person despite the planes he specifically developed as dogfighters being responsible for  hundreds of American (and Chinese) deaths and later being adapted for kamikaze flights, there has been backlash against the film as being tactlessly nationalistic. This both is and isn’t true. The Wind Rises has a strong and crystal clear anti-war message and stages repeated criticism of the Japanese wartime government. The thought police who come after Jiro for no apparent reason are quite frightening, for example, and the military administration is portrayed as comically inept. In addition, while flight is obviously a thing of beauty, scenes of battle are accompanied by the same low vocal singing-chanting-droning noise that the viewer first comes to associate with the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake, which is nothing short of horrifying.That being said, there is a measure of pride shown in the ability of certain Japanese citizens of the time to innovate even without adequate resources, to stand up to administrators from Western countries (specifically Germany) that will not treat them as equals, and to be almost superhumanly brave in the face of natural, political, and personal disasters. Despite the terrible uses to which the technology they developed was put, what Jiro Horikoshi and his colleague Kiro Honjo managed to achieve is breathtaking and profound. The director doesn’t position these achievements as necessarily Japanese, but rather as achievements for the human race, as Jiro especially is influenced by the science, art, poetry, and songs of Western countries such as France and Italy, which were in close dialog with Japan during the opening decades of the twentieth century. Like the 2011 Studio Ghibli film From Up On Poppy Hill, which shows students working together to restore an old building by cleaning out and washing away all of the old junk that has piled up inside it, The Wind Rises asks its audience to meditate on Japan’s past in the same way that its protagonist carefully considers his own mistakes with the intention of not making them again as he moves into the future. The message seems to be that, if we can understand and take responsibility for what we did wrong, then it is perfectly natural for us to celebrate what we did right, as history is shaped not by the ponderous and incomprehensible movements of world powers but rather by the courage and small triumphs of individuals.                

A major theme, if not the major theme, of The Wind Rises is that it’s important to take the time to think deeply about one’s mistakes. In fact, the majority of the film’s action, as well as its most spectacular moments, involve its protagonist reflecting on something that went wrong and imagining how it could have been done differently for the purpose of rising to greater heights in the future.

Because The Wind Rises portrays Jiro Horikoshi, the creator of the Zero fighter plane, in a humanistic light, showing that he wasn’t a bad person despite the planes he specifically developed as dogfighters being responsible for  hundreds of American (and Chinese) deaths and later being adapted for kamikaze flights, there has been backlash against the film as being tactlessly nationalistic.

This both is and isn’t true. The Wind Rises has a strong and crystal clear anti-war message and stages repeated criticism of the Japanese wartime government. The thought police who come after Jiro for no apparent reason are quite frightening, for example, and the military administration is portrayed as comically inept. In addition, while flight is obviously a thing of beauty, scenes of battle are accompanied by the same low vocal singing-chanting-droning noise that the viewer first comes to associate with the 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake, which is nothing short of horrifying.

That being said, there is a measure of pride shown in the ability of certain Japanese citizens of the time to innovate even without adequate resources, to stand up to administrators from Western countries (specifically Germany) that will not treat them as equals, and to be almost superhumanly brave in the face of natural, political, and personal disasters. Despite the terrible uses to which the technology they developed was put, what Jiro Horikoshi and his colleague Kiro Honjo managed to achieve is breathtaking and profound. The director doesn’t position these achievements as necessarily Japanese, but rather as achievements for the human race, as Jiro especially is influenced by the science, art, poetry, and songs of Western countries such as France and Italy, which were in close dialog with Japan during the opening decades of the twentieth century.

Like the 2011 Studio Ghibli film From Up On Poppy Hill, which shows students working together to restore an old building by cleaning out and washing away all of the old junk that has piled up inside it, The Wind Rises asks its audience to meditate on Japan’s past in the same way that its protagonist carefully considers his own mistakes with the intention of not making them again as he moves into the future. The message seems to be that, if we can understand and take responsibility for what we did wrong, then it is perfectly natural for us to celebrate what we did right, as history is shaped not by the ponderous and incomprehensible movements of world powers but rather by the courage and small triumphs of individuals.                

Engineer Husbands, Part I